Wickham had given me a handful of lessons since the Halloween party months ago, and every time we met I fell further. At first, Lizzy seemed interested in him, but nothing came of it. So, he was fair game. The first few lessons were brief and less personal, but at my most recent lesson, he sat so close, showing me chords, the warmthof his breath touched the back of my neck. All I needed was the opportunity to move our relationship to the next level.
Powdery snow sprayed around my ankles as I jaunted across the grass to the amphitheater. I stopped at the top of the stone benches, and Wickham glanced up from the stage. He hopped off and sauntered in my direction, so I made my way down the side set of stairs to meet him.
His beaming smile made me dizzy. “Lydia, are you here to help with the setup?”
“Yes.” It was the only word I wanted to say to this man. “Anything you want.”Literally anything. My heart and soul, a lifetime commitment, a trip for two to southern France. Take your pick.
“We’ve got the sound set up for the most part, but can you stand in the back to help with the mic checks?” He grinned, revealing his dimples and perfect white teeth. With his dark hair and eyes, leather jacket, and well-fitting T-shirt, I struggled to look straight at him without blatantly staring.
“Happy to.” I offered a smile, but I tried not to act too eager. “Should I stand nearthe back there?”
The amphitheater was a series of stone steps that were large enough to be used as seats and formed a semicircle around the stage below.
“Yeah, if you can hear me well, give me a thumbs up. If it’s too quiet, give me a thumbs down.” He winked at me, the flirt, and then pivoted around and climbed back up onto the stage.
“Testing, one, two, three . . .”
Thumbs up for the first mic. For the second, I held my thumb to the side because the balance was close but not as loud. The next few were fine.
And when he got to the final mic... “And are we still good for our date on New Year’s Eve?”
My jaw dropped, and I looked around behind me, then pointed to myself. “Me?”
“Who else?” He flashed that brilliant smile once more.
Definitely a thumbs up. I skipped down the stairs to the stage. “Well, aren’t you clever?”
“Would you hate me if I said we already checked the mics half an hour ago?” The corner of his mouth turned up, and he sat down on the edge of the stage by where I was standing.
“How many other girls have fallen for this?” I asked, not that I really cared as long as I was the last. It was no secret that George Wickham was popular among women.
“Only you.” He shrugged, and my knees wobbled. He needed to be careful, or I’d need to be treated for shock pretty soon.
“So, you want to hang out for New Year’s after the bazaar?” I asked.
He nodded. “The town council is keeping the area warm until midnight. We could go ice skating and then watch the fireworks?”
This guy. Where had he been all my life? “Sure. But I haven’t skated since I was little and broke my ankle. Maybe we can go really slow?”
“I’ll help you get the hang of it.”
Though every part of me wanted to stay, I knew better. So, I summoned my courage and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” And scurried back over to my mom and sisters. This wasgoing too easily.
On New Year’s Eve, a fresh energy coursed through the bazaar. Sparkling cider, gourmet fudge, and popcorn scented the air. Fairy lights lined the booths, and moody contemporary Grey Doors music sounded in the background. It was magical. And I couldn’t wait for it to be over.
Around nine o’clock, the main activities closed. The families with young children finally headed home, and vendors packed up their wares. I made my excuses to my family, checked my hair and makeup, and left in search of Wickham.
I found him wrapping up cords on the amphitheater stage. When we made eye contact, he hopped down and made his way to me. I didn’t expect the hug he gave me, but returned it eagerly.
“Want a tour of backstage?”
“Of course.” I took his outstretched hand, and he helped me up onto the stage. When I stood straight up, instead of letting my hand go, he twirled me under his arm like a ballerina—as if he hadn’t already made me dizzy enough.
He was good. I had to give him that.
“I’m glad you came.”
I ran my hand down his arm. “Of course. I am a little nervous about skating though.”
