“I’m going to go. Thank you for the ride home, Wyatt.”
My hands gently slide down her arms and away from her as she moves to open the door.
“Wait. Let me get the door.”
I jump out and adjust myself quickly before I run around the car. After opening her door, I reach in and help her step out of the car.
“Goodnight, Blair.” I place my hands on her hips and slide close, risking it for one more small kiss. She doesn’t push me away, and I’m addicted.
She walks into her house, and I wait until the door is closed before I lean back against my car, press the palms of my hands to my eyes, and sigh.
nineteen
. . .
BLAIR
“Here, try some of this,”Stella says as she hands me a jar of lip mask treatment. I snap out of my daze and stare at her.
I must look confused because she says, “You keep touching your lips, so I thought maybe you needed something for them?”
“Oh. Yes, thank you.”
I can’t tell her I keep touching my lips because I keep thinking about Wyatt’s lips on them last night.
I can’t believe I kissed him. I can’t believe how good that kiss was. I thought I had over-inflated my memory of his kiss because it seemed unlikely that the best kiss of my life would be with an eighteen-year-old boy. I was wrong. It was. Well, until last night. Now that is the new bar.
He broke my heart. I swore I would never forgive him. However, I also didn’t think I’d ever see him again once we graduated, so I relented and did my best to move on. Is it wrong that I feel better knowing he didn’t want to get back with Holly?
Don’t judge me. I know Holly was my friend, but she wasn’t the poster child for committed relationships. It was obvious she didn’t want to be with Wyatt toward the end. For the record,when he confirmed he didn’t have feelings for her, I confessed to Holly that I liked him. She told me to go for it.
Oddly, I understood his need to please his parents. I was an only child to parents who’d had me later in life. The expectations and delusion around my perfection were off the charts.
It’s funny what stories you’ll tell yourself when you don’t have all the facts. I wish he would’ve trusted me enough to understand the pressure he was under, but it sounds like he just shut down. I wonder if that is why he stuck with his original UCLA plans.
“Grant confirmed lunch for tomorrow, too,” Stella says. “I’ve booked you at The Ivy.”
I pull my head out of memory lane and stare at her in shock. “I can’t believe he’s available to meet with me so quickly—this is wild.” I shake my head. I’m used to booking so far ahead that you forget why you’re trying to meet with someone by the time you actually get to meet.
“He asked a lot of questions about Sophia. He seemed eager to talk about what projects she’s working on.” Stella says this like it’s not the most unusual thing to ever happen.
“You spoke with Grant directly? Not his assistant?”
“No, he called directly to set it up. Was that not ok?” she asks with a worried frown.
I reassure her that she did nothing wrong and explain that it’s not typical for execs to book their own calendars—mostly because they probably don’t even know what is on their calendars half the time.
I’m suspicious about why Grant is so interested in Sophia. I haven’t signed her yet. I wonder if he’s heard something that could help or hurt. You never know which way it will go in this town.
It could be a good play to invite her along. I have nothing specific to pitch to Grant yet, but it’s always good to keep himclose. He may know of a few things, too. I grab my phone and pull up the last text exchange I had with Sophia.
ME
Any chance you are available for lunch tomorrow? Before you answer, I’m asking you if you want to have lunch with me and Grant Hall.
SOPHIA
Seriously? YES! Tell me where and when.
