Blair sees me, smiles, and I suddenly feel a whole lot lighter, like the world’s spinning just for me, just for us in this moment.
She makes her way over, grinning like a cat who just ate a mouse, and I slip my hands into my pockets, doing what I can to calm my nerves. This is it. I’ll be honest. I’ll be open. I’ll say that I don’t regret the kiss, that I want more, that I can’t stand seeing her with other men.
I head over, grabbing two glasses of punch from a table. Hopefully these have lots and lots of alcohol. I have a feeling I’m gonna need it.
After taking a quick swig it is confirmed—no alcohol.
I hand one to Blair when she joins me, still grinning. My heart’s so big it feels like it’s going to explode. My palms are sweating. Is it hot in here?
No, not hot. I’m just about to put myself out there, let the woman I love know how I feel.
“How was the dance?” I ask, immediately regretting that I put another man into her head when what she needs to be thinking about is me, no one but me.
She takes the glass with a little nod and sips. “Thank you. I’m burning up. I should’ve rested after that tango—” Her gaze cuts away from me dramatically, and her cheeks turn bright red. Oh yeah, she felt it, too. “But then Storm asked me to dance and yada yada yada, here we are.”
She slaps her forehead like either she forgot something or she’s trying to fill up the space between us with as many words as possible because she’s uncomfortable with the kiss and our public sex dance. For the record, I don’t regret either of them.
“But you asked about Storm. It was good.”
“Blair, listen…”
Her gaze cuts back to me, and she looks up, her big doe eyes shining with emotion. I think it’s fear. I should make this fast before she bolts. Not that Blair would ever run away from a fight, but she might just run away from me.
“Oh, I saw my first vision.”
I blink. “You did? When?”
“Right after we danced.”
“Was itthe one?”
She makes a funny face. “Um, no.”
“What does that mean?”
“Never mind.” She waves her hand in dismissal. “Anyway, what did you want to say?”
I lower my voice. “About what happened earlier…”
Her cheeks turn even more red. “About the dance? Oh, it was fine. I was worried of course that it would be too sexy and not get Storm’s attention in the right way, but it did.”
“No, I mean about the kiss.”
Her eyes pop out of her head. “What? Oh, that. What about it?”
My gaze drops to the floor while I try to find the words to say this. “Listen, I know it was unexpected, but I don’t reg?—”
“Storm asked me out on a date,” she blurts out.
The world stops spinning as my stomach crashes to the floor, where dancers smash it into pulp. “What?”
“Your plan worked. He’s not mad anymore, and he asked me on a date for tomorrow. Of course, I’ll need you to be there so that you can tell me what to say in a Cyrano de Bergerac sort of way.” She stops, seems to notice that I’ve gone pale, that my life has ended. “If that’s okay.”
My brain catches up to the conversation. “You didn’t need me with you when you danced with him.”
“I know, but this is different. I need you there to make sure I do this right. Please, Devlin. Wow. Never thought I’d hear myself say those words.” She laughs, but it quickly fades into a distant memory when her eyes darken. “Please. Help me win him. You said that you would. You promised.”
It feels like my life is being strangled right out of me as I choke out the words, “Sure. I made a promise, and I plan to keep it.” I lift my glass. “Here’s to first dates.”
