This feels… bad. Nerves settle in my stomach as I jump back into our conversation, my hands gripping the table like it will ground me. I hear my laugh as if it’s coming from someone else and try to throw myself back into my body, hastily downing my drink before calling for another.
When Grant finally comes back to the table, he doesn’t even spare me a glance.
I deserve that, I think to myself, self-loathing trickling down my spine as I sip my new cocktail.
The server comes around with checks, and we clear out, apparently heading to a bar down the street.Naturally, Olivia doesn’t want to come, but I’m too consumed by my own shit to care as much as I usually would.
“I’ll give you a ride back,” Grant says, suddenly beside her and my skin feels hot with shame when I realize he still won’t look at me. This invitation to Olivia feels like a punishment, something Will would do if I’m being honest, and all I can do is try to protect myself.
I turn on my heel, dragging Will by the hand and he stumbles, laughing as he rights himself. We join the rest of the group and head down the road, but not before I spare a glance back at Grant as he ushers Liv into his car.
We finally lock eyes, for the briefest of moments, and where I expect to see hurt in his eyes I instead see disbelief.My breathing hitches as he looks me over, pushing the door shut.
“Where’s Gen?” I hear Andy wonder in the distance.
I watch Grant pause at the driver’s side, his mouth open like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. He gets in the car and drives away without a single glance.
If I hear Scott’s irritating chortle one more time, I’m going to shred his vocal cords myself.
I slide my gaze to where he’s leaning against the hightop, a beer sloshing in his hand. Will’s egging him on to join the impromptu cotton eyed joe happening in between tables, and apparently it’s the funniest shit Scott’s ever heard.
I glance over my shoulder and around the bar, wondering how early is too early to leave. Nothing about this place is appealing to me right now. As if he read my mind, Will knocks me with his elbow, his warmth seeping into my arm as he moves closer.
“Don’t leave me,” he pleads in my ear, turning so I can see his mossy, puppy dog eyes.
I cross my arms, looking up at him through my lashes. “If I’d known you were inviting Scott tonight, I wouldn’t have come in the first place.”
“Come on, Genny,” he says, guiding my gaze over to where Scott is attempting some archaic dance move. “He’s a fun time.” He shrugs, grinning at me like that’s justification enough.
Forget thatIdon’t like Scott, or that he’s constantly making some off-collar joke at my expense—‘he’s a good time’. So I should just get over it, I guess. But I’ve beenaccepting whoever Will wants to pull into our little circle foryearswithout so much as a complaint because I refuse to be that girl. Still, I’m feeling prickly after dinner, my thoughts continuing to circle back to Grant and how I might’ve made him feel. I want to text him and explain myself, but every time I begin to, I realize I don’t even know what excuse I have. What I did was shitty.
“I mean look at him,” Will chuckles, raising his beer can in Scott’s direction as he shimmies behind Andy.
“He’s immature,” I deadpan. He moves so that he’s behind me now, his hand cupping my shoulder as he leans down, his mouth almost brushing against my ear. It’s not overtly intimate, and he’s been drinking, but shivers run down me nevertheless, and I swear I feel him smile.
“You’re more uptight than usual tonight. We should dance,” he says quiet enough so that only I can hear him. The hand on my shoulder runs down my arm, his large palm curving around my waist. Conflicted desire swirls in my chest as I grasp his bicep, stilling his movements.
“Will…” I trail off, my mind warring between the dream of us I’ve had since childhood and the reality that makes it obvious I shouldn’t let him do this.
“We always had so much fun dancing,” he reminds me, a smile in his voice. And I remember the times we’d go out or end up at some crazy house party; when he’d pull me in close as we shouted the lyrics to whatever song was playing, grinding against each other and pretending it didn’t happen the next morning.
I let him guide me onto the dance floor, spinning around to put some distance between us, because we’renotsixteen anymore. We can’t just tip headfirst into each other whenever it feels convenient, like we used to. Mild annoyanceflashes in his gaze as he pulls me close, only a few inches between us, he wraps his arms low around my waist.
“Now, was that so hard?” His mouth pulls into this coy smile, the one that’s always disarmed me. I roll my eyes, letting a smile flit to my lips, taking a breath like it’ll blow all the tension out.
“Is it your mission in life to piss Olivia off?” I can’t help but feel a twinge of glee, the image of her slyly whispering something in Ben’s ear at the bonfire flashing in my mind. Her discomfort at mine and Will’s relationship feels like karma, even if it shouldn’t.
“Not everything is about her. Maybe,” he steps into me, his lips brushing my ear as the rest of him presses against me, exhilaration rushes my system. I glance to my left, then to my right, and realize we’re just nameless bodies in the sea of people now crowing this bar. “Maybe I just wanted to dance withyou.”
I gaze up into his green eyes, green the way the ocean sometimes is, before I land on his mouth. My lips tingle with the urge to press them against his; lips that look like they’re begging to be kissed. Instead, I press mine together. Because it wouldn’t change anything—it never has.
I step back, replacing the distance he eviscerated, and try to change the subject. “Remember how much we danced that last summer?”
Sadness shades his eyes, and even though it shouldn’t, it bothers me that we can’t reminisce on that time. On her.
He stands up a little straighter, something in his gaze shifting focus. “The before times,” he says, unable to even say her name. As much as I didn’t like that Lily and him were together, I loved that he was happy. If I would have known that she would stay with him for this long…I would’ve done things differently. I could’ve done a million things differently, but I didn’t.
“You know, it’s really okay here—in the after times. If you could just?—”
