Instead of curbinghisattraction towardme,he’s going to curbmyattraction towardhim.
There’s some serious appeal to this, I won’t deny it. Getting Will off my mind would free up a hefty amount of mental capacity I could repurpose to focus on work.
The question is: Are the five worst things about Will Grant enough to permanently squash my feelings for him?
“How do I know you’re going to give me the true worst?” I ask.
“Here’s a teaser,” Will says. “I’ll give you the first one right now as an advance. When I was a senior in college, I cheated on my corporate finance final.”
Cheating. That’s pretty bad. It signifies a weak moral compass. Already, the questions are internally swirling as I study him.
It doesn’t line up, if I’m honest. Will doesn’t screamcheaterto me. On women. On tests.
I mentally berate myself when I realize I’m already trying to rationalize this “worst thing” away, to diminish its significance on my opinion of him.
Will looks back at me. He’s no less attractive than he was one sentence ago, but some of the mystery behind his time in New York has been eliminated.
I stick out my hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
As more guests arrive in the sun-drenched backyard, the chefs begin serving their appetizers: grilled bread with melted garlic butter, roasted oysters, fiery salsa and handmade tortillas, tiny cups of balled fruit. A bartender from Agricole I know only as Weird Stanley sets up a booth in one corner of the yard, pouring bags of frosty ice into giant metal tubs. He produces a piece of card stock, which he folds in half and displays on his card-table-turned-bar:Drink Specials.All of which are vampire themed.
In the other direction, Camila and David are whispering to each other by the fence line. I can’t see her face, but David looks like he’s absorbing her stress, hands running up and down her arms. He pulls her against his chest, settling the crown of her head there.
A bright splash of envy hits me, seeing them like that.
I’ve beenfineon my own since my last breakup. I haven’t evenwantedto date. Why am I suddenly wishing I had somebody to hold me upright like that? Somebody to whisper with in the corner at a party?
Giovanna materializes beside me. “You fixed yourself up,” she notes.
After Will left the guest bedroom, I did some light makeup and braided my hair.
Plus, deodorant.
And some perfume.
And a pair of Cami’s earrings.
I turn to Gio. “Do you think Camila’s been acting weird lately?”
She gives me a cynical look. “I thinkyou’vebeen acting weird lately.”
I ignore this. “She hasn’t said anything to you?”
“Aboutwhat?” Gio asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Nothing,” I grumble.
“Are you guys in a work fight?”
“Not that I know of.”
Though now my memories are retooling themselves into something more sinister. Is my frame of reference too narrow? Maybe it isn’t a recent problem driving Camila to leave Revenant. What if it’s something that’s been building inside her for years?
“Do you want me to ask her if something’s up?” Gio offers.
“Please do not.”
