Rio blinked at me, then glanced over her shoulder as if checking whether I was speaking to someone behind her.
I raised my eyebrows and lowered my chin in a small come-on nudge.
She pointed at herself and mouthed, “Me?”
“You,” I mouthed back.
She hesitated, glancing from side to side, then finally slid her hand into mine. It was small, warm, a little clammy.
I led her onto the dance floor and stopped, turning to face her. As the opening chords ofIrisbyGoo Goo Dollsfilled the room, I pulled her into the slow rhythm.
“Where’s your queen?” she asked, the q sticking slightly in her throat.
“I came stag. A bunch of us did. Simon’s the only one with a girl.”
She smiled, her eyes skimming the room instead of settling on mine.
I didn’t want to ask her the same question or let her know that I’d heard those idiots mocking her. I just wanted this Homecoming to be something good for her to remember.
The way she fit in my arms stirred something in me—something unfamiliar, something I couldn’t pin down, or name, or intended to unpack. This wasn’t about me. It wasabout her. I’d do this for any of my friend’s sisters who’d been insulted, I told myself.
But you wouldn’t enjoy it as much, a small voice in my head pointed out.
My palm rested on the bare skin of her back, warm and soft, sending a current up my arm that I had no business feeling.
“Where’s Ruby?” I asked instead, looking for something—anything—to say.
“She’s busy with the organizing committee. Probably the best excuse for not having a date.”
“I’ll be your date.”
She huffed out a scoff. “Royalty and commoners unite?”
I laughed. I loved her sarcasm and that sweet scent that clung to her—maybe her perfume, maybe that pink gloss she was wearing.
“That’s okay. I’ll go find Ruby and the rest,” she said, her smiling expression had that aroma ofI know what you’re trying to do, and you don’t have to.
“Okay, not a date,” I said. “But if you want to dance, drink, or if anyone gives you a hard time, you find me, yeah?” Then, as an afterthought, I added, “Or Simon.” Didn’t want to sound like a complete douche.
“I just want you to know who I am," the lead singer repeated as I was still holding Rio close, and somehow, the lyrics lodged themselves in my mind—familiar yet making sense in a different way.
I SHUT MY PHONE, LEFTit on my bed, and stepped onto the landing. Rio’s door was a few feet away. Without stopping, I knocked on it. If I couldn’t succumb to my urge to kick the assholes who were out there making her feel bad, I could at least act on my other urge.
Rio appeared at the doorway, wearing light brown lounge pants and a white tee. Her hair was wet, still unbrushed.
“Hey. Is everything okay? Walter?” The frown line between her brows deepened.
I placed my hand on her forearm and pulled her gently into my arms. Holding her close, I inhaled, catching the fresh, sweet, fruity scent of her. Definitely strawberry.
“Everything’s fine,” I murmured. “I just wanted to say ... thanks for taking care of him.” Thank God for the available excuse.
“Thanks,” I repeated, letting go and watching her confused expression.
“You’re welcome,” she mumbled.
I nodded once, turned, and retreated to my room before I did something really stupid.
9
