“Happy to do it.” Jacob wraps an arm around me, his hand resting in the hollow of my waist. I instinctively stiffen away from him, then chastise myself. He isn’t doing anythinginappropriate. It’s just new, accepting this level of public affection from a date. I’ll get used to it.
If I’m honest, I didn’t even want to come tonight. The whole scene with Dad this morning left me reeling. I always thought that Mom fell out of love with the person she promised to stay with forever. Now, I know he made it impossible for her to keep that promise.
I don’t have the bandwidth to process what that means, and it’s not like I could ditch poor Jacob on New Year’s Eve. All I can do is paste on a smile and clink my glass against his. “To an amazing New Year’s.”
“It’s already amazing. I mean, look at this.”
Jacob gestures generally to the crowd. The Sequel New Year’s Eve party is everything Cat said it would be and more. You’d have no idea the space is usually an office, with the dance floor, the DJ, the disco balls and the sparkling lights. In the corners, there are eggplant-purple velvet couches. Some have groups of friends laughing and drinking, but there are a few couples already starting to cozy up, hours before the ball drops.
I smile at him. “You started the night off right, renting that limo.”
Jacob’s face reddens. “I was a little worried you’d think it was silly, since the drive was so short.”
Honestly, I did think it was a little silly when the limo pulled up. Even in my sky-high heels, we could have just walked to the party. Still, Jacob’s clearly putting in an effort to charm me. When I put it in the next article, I know the readers will flip for it, anyway.
“I thought it was sweet. You’re kind of a romantic, I’m finding out.”
His lips curve up. “Tell me if it feels like too much.”
“Don’t worry. I can handle a little ‘much.’”
Something flashes across his face, and his head dips slightly. I think he might be about to kiss me, now, way before midnight. It’s not like this would be the first time we’ve kissed, but something about this feels too soon. I swallow, looking up at his eyes that are already closed.
“Pippa, hey! Happy New Year!”
I’m relieved when Brinley emerges from the crowd, her usual glasses gone for the evening. She gives me a big hug, then pulls back to look down at my—black, of course—dress. “You look fantastic, Pippa.”
“So do you! It’s so weird seeing you with contacts, though.” I know her glasses just aren’t for show—I tried them on once, and the whole world went blurry and wavy.
She groans. “I know. They’re such a pain in the ass, I almost never wear them.”
Jacob shifts his weight, and I realize I should be introducing him. “Right. Brinley, this is Jacob, my date.”
“I’ve read about you,” she says. “You’re not the country music guy, right?”
I laugh. “No, thankfully, this one has much better taste.”
Brinley and Jacob start exchanging polite questions about their taste in music, and I’m grateful to have a date with basic socialization skills—never a guarantee. I glance out at the crowd, wondering if I’ll be able to spot Cat’s curly blonde hair. Now that she travels with her gigantic-shouldered husband, she’s much easier to find in a crowd.
My eyes snag on a head of messy dark hair, and my breath catches in my chest.
Ryan’s standing by the bar, a glass of whiskey and ice in his hand. The light plays off his silver rings, and for some reason that makes my heart thud a little faster. His usual smile is gone, replaced by a scowl that makes him look a little dangerous. It’s inexplicably sexy.
Apparently, I’m not the only one who thinks so. Three women with model-esque features surround him, trying to make conversation with him. They seem oblivious to his mood, as well as to the fact that each of them is trying to flirt with him. I watch as the one in the silver dress plays with his jacket lapel, seconds after the one with waist-length blonde hair not-so-subtly grazes the front of his black jeans with her hand.
My chest feels tight, and drawing a full breath feels impossible.
Jacob’s hand brushes my bare shoulder, thumb tracing an absent circle over my skin, and guilt punches straight through the jealousy.
He’s right here. Warm. Sweet.Trying.
You’re here with a date, I remind myself.It doesn’t matter what Ryan’s doing.
If anything, I should be taking mental notes. “How to Pretend You Don’t Care That Your Emotionally Unavailable Crush Has a Fan Club” would probably do numbers on Belladonna’s site.
I’ve given him every chance to tell me how he feels about me, and he’s made it very clear that I’m a good fuck—nothing more. I need to keep my focus on the man beside me.
Brinley squeals, and I see that Cat has finally made it to our table, with Nate, Beau, and Luke on her heels like a set of very large bodyguards.
