After dancing for a few songs, the heat of the bar felt stifling.
“I need some air,” I said, and I stepped off the dance floor.
Will’s gaze followed me as I made my way to the door.
I could feel his presence next to me before I heard him whisper “I’ll come with you.”
“I had the best night,” he said, as we slipped out into the cool night air. His eyes locked on mine.
“Me too,” I admitted, surprising myself.
“I wish I could go home with you,” I murmured, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
“Me, too,” he said. “I’d love to wake up next to you.”
I didn’t answer, not because I didn’t feel the same, but because saying it out loud made it too real. Instead, I kissed him, slow and deliberate, like a confession I wasn’t ready to speak.
Through the window, I saw Camille and Meredith dancing like no one was watching. I grabbed Will’s hand and went insideto join them, holding onto the high of the evening for as long as I could.
By the end of the night, we were all fading fast. Will called a car for us, and as I got into the car with my sister and Camille, he gave me the softest smile, filled with longing.
I glanced back at him as we pulled away. He was standing alone on the curb under the glow of the streetlights and I wished I was standing there with him.
CHAPTER 31
CLOSE CALLS AND COUNTERTOPS
WILL
The next day was a blur. My head pounded, my mouth was dry, and every cell in my body screamed at me for the reckless amount of alcohol I consumed. I hadn’t partied since college. It was a night I wouldn’t soon forget, thrilling and completely out of character for me. Natalie made me do things I never thought I’d do, like having sex, up against a door, in a damn ballroom. Who was I? And whydidI feel so alive with her?
I reached for my phone on the nightstand, half-hoping to see a message from her. Nothing. I flopped back onto the bed, wishing she was next to me. I could still picture her laughing, see the way she tossed her head back exposing her neck, or that freckle on her nose I hadn’t stopped thinking about since I first noticed it.
She consumed me. The way she smelled, the sound of her voice, the way her lips curled into a teasing smile…but the reality lingered like a shadow. She had a husband. A husband I didn’tknow and didn’t want to know. Maybe it was better that way, so I didn’t have to picture her life with him.
My phone buzzed. Not Natalie. Kelly. Her text was vague but unusual.
Kelly: We need to meet this week.
Meeting outside of a courtroom or a strained parent-teacher conference was rare for us lately. I didn’t know what she wanted, but I agreed.
Will: I can make Friday at 1 work.
Kelly: Fine
I suggested a coffee shop near school pickup. She replied with a simple OK. Typical Kelly, curt and detached.
I wanted to text Natalie. I wanted her to come over, to erase the ache in my chest that seemed to grow every second I wasn’t with her, but I knew better than to reach out first, especially not on the weekend. Weekends were for her family. Her husband. Not me.
Later that night, an email popped up from her. My chest tightened as I opened it. But instead of a formal farewell, or anything like it, it was a teasing question about adding a deserted ballroom to my home décor. Impulsively I emailed back.
Re: Subject: Random Question
Natalie,
Meet me for lunch tomorrow so we can discuss.
Will
