I cough, and a piece of samosa lodges itself in my windpipe, making me cough even more.
Zia pats my back. “Are you okay?”
I nod, but then my cough suddenly stops, and so does my breathing. Panicked, I stand, the blood rushing to my face as I struggle to inhale. Instinctively, I tug at the collar of my shirt as if that will loosen the tightness constricting my throat.
For the briefest moment, I wonder if this is how it ends, with me choking on a samosa. I look at Paige, positive that if I go out, I want her right next to me.
One of the bulkier waiters comes up behind me, and I think he’s ready to give me the Heimlich when Paige leans over, grabs my water, and pushes it into my hands. I manage to swallow some water and immediately feel relief.
Air rushes to my lungs, and I gulp in several deep breaths. I take another sip, letting it cool my overheated face and clear out any remaining food—humiliation at its finest.
I feel something warm next to me and look down to find Paige’s hands wrapped around my arm and her head leaning against my shoulder. Her eyes are closed, and she says, in a voice only loud enough for me to hear, “Don’t ever do that to me again, Jordan Miller.”
I turn and wrap my free arm around her back, hoping my reassurance will wash the fear from her face. “I’m okay, Paige.” I stand there, unwilling to move. This moment between us feels delicate, like even the slightest shift will break it—and the longer we stand there, the more something forbidden stirs inside me.
“I’m so glad you thought of the water,” Zia tells Paige, breaking our trance.
Paige yanks her head back. She must realize how we must look to our dates, wrapped around each other like this, and she drops her hands and goes back to her seat beside Ian as I sit across from her.
“That was a close one,” Ian says before sipping his drink.
The girls nod, and I tuck back into my food to put it all behind me, but then I look up and see Ian watching me, clear challenge in his gaze. Whatever he just witnessed between me and Paige, he’s not happy about it.
This time, when he lifts his arm, it doesn’t rest on the back of Paige’s chair. No, it drapes across her shoulders. “Pages,” he says, emphasizing the name, and I can’t help but feel his little nickname is intended as a finely crafted arrow aimed directly at me. “Do you remember when Ricky Kazocs choked on that cookie in Spanish class?”
“Oh yeah, the poor guy,” Paige says. “Didn’t you give him the Heimlich?”
“Yeah,” Ian says.
Paige nods. “That was so brave.”
Ian shrugs. “It wasn’t a big deal. I was just glad he was okay, and if I impressed a certain girl in my class in the process, then I’m lucky I was there when it happened.”
He winks at her, and she smiles up at him like he’s Captain America.
Ian eyes me, and I swear a little smirk turns his mouth. “Remember that time in gym class with Mr. Ramirez…” He jumps into another exclusive memory, and I try to resist the gauntlet he has thrown at my feet. I try really hard. But I’m just a man.
“Mr. Ramirez,” I say, butting in. “He’s the teacher that found us alone in the gym closet, right, Paige?” I’m completely omitting the part where the basketball Paige used to prop the door open rolled away and locked us in while Paige and I were getting hockey sticks for gym class, but Ian doesn’t need to know that.
Paige’s mouth falls open, and I don’t even want to look at Zia. I’m being a complete jerk, again, but the strained look on Ian’s face is worth it. Oh, so worth it. This might be better than punching him in the jaw.
“Pages.” Ian pulls her closer to him, his cocky smirk reappearing. “Do you remember when we tried to beat the world record for the longest kiss?”
Paige’s eyes widen, and a blush brightens her cheeks. Ian’s expression is pure victory.
My fist curls around the tablecloth.
Paige pins me with a glare, shaking her head at me to stand down. But I can’t let Ian think he can shatter Paige’s heart then strut back into her life like it never happened, so I pull out the only trump card in my pocket.
“Paige, remember that time we planned our wedding?”
Chapter 13
PAIGE
Paige: Furious doesn’t begin to describe how I feel.
Jordan: I’m sorry. I should have stopped.
