Goddamn him. “Seven.”
“Oh, that’s not good enough.” He glided us across the floor, this time dragging one of his hands to my lower back and gently rubbing circles on it. “The first time I danced with a girl I was so nervous I burped during the quiet part of the song.”
“You, nervous?”
“Believe it or not, yes. I’m so charming now it’s hard to comprehend, I know.” He rested his chin on top of my head, and for a moment, a brief one, I closed my eyes. He made it easy to trust him, to fall into his charming anecdotes of his life and maturity that most of my peers lacked. He was comforting and respectful. It was easy to crave more of him, as though he provided a high that was specific to me.
And that was enough of that.
I took a step back and smiled as best I could at him. “I need to use the restroom. Excuse me.”
“I’ll be here, dancing by myself.”
Fuck.He took my excuse and let me run with it even though I’d bet my savings he knew it was fake. Who went to the bathroom in the middle of the song? No one did. The stall on the right was empty, and I went in, slammed the door, and gave myself ten seconds to breathe.
Thiswas why I’d ended our fling. The feelings. The whispers ofwhat ifthat clogged my judgment and made me feel hope.
Hope wasn’t part of my plan.
What-ifs weren’t either.
They turned into disappointment and grief—which was only a step away from hitting rock bottom. Like my mom and brother. “Okay. Be strong,” I told myself and exited the stall to find Fiona adjusting her makeup in the mirror. “Hey.”
“Even after living with you for two years, I never heard you talk to yourself in the bathroom before. Is this a new thing?” She smirked and I flipped her off. “Oh, I miss you.”
“I hate to admit that I do miss living with you. I don’t know what to do without your foul language.”
“Fucking shit dick.” She laughed and put her arm around me. “Gideon should thank you.”
“What the hell for?” I studied her face to see if she was plastered because that comment made no sense.
“For talking sense into me when I was a tad in denial.”
I snorted. “More than a tad, my sweet friend. But you’re right…he does owe me.”
“I’ll let him know.” We shared a smile again, and the back of my throat itched at all the feelings I was throwing around. “You and Bummy seem to be having fun. I can’t believe you danced.”
“He’s sneaky.”
“I bet he’d be fun in bed.” She wiggled her eyebrows and made a stupid face. “You’re due for a new booty boy anyway.”
“Gah, do not say ‘booty boy’.” I couldn’t help but laugh at her and shrugged. “My Monday night guy was starting to bore me a little.”
“Bummy looks like he’d be up for it.”
“Baseball players aren’t my thing,” I said for the millionth time that month.
“They used to be though, eh?” she said, damn well not realizing how close she was to the truth. She knew about my mysterious hookup two years ago. She knew I’d started to fall, and all I’d told her was that he was visiting the city and he played baseball.
That was really all I knew about him outside of the bedroom.
Liar.
He cares deeply for his mom and is patient and kind.
“Well, weddings tend to bring out hormones and lust.” She put her arm around mine, and we leave the bathroom. I searched for Brooks the second I pushed the door open and found him still on the dance floor, but another woman was in his arms.
The stab of anger and disappointment felt like someone had jammed their fingers into my side.Who the fuck is she?
