“Mmmm,” I hum lazily, still tired from sleep. “Why?”
“I don’t think it’s true for me anymore.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, eyes closed, foot grazing the dog shaped hippo at my ankles.
“Ephemeral means lasting for a very short time.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But you feel everlasting,” he whispers against my skin.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes even now, and I feel a stab of pain that I can’t just walk up to him and kiss him how I’m aching to. He must see my face shift, because he takes an involuntary step toward me.Are you okay?he mouths.
Before I can answer, Finn is at my side, sweeping me onto the dance floor, shocking a bark of laughter out of me.
For the next twenty minutes, I’m passed around on a rotation of handsome rugby players, all fighting for a turn to spin me around. I can’t say I’m mad at the development; if anything, it drums up a warm buzzing in my chest.
I’m rolling my eyes at something Connor just said whena deep rumble sounds from behind me. “I’ll take it from here, Davies.”
I don’t know what look is on Tieran’s face behind me, but for once, Connor doesn’t argue. He just nods and bows out, mumbling something about wanting to hit the free bar.
Tieran comes to stand in front of me, and I’m almost knocked on my ass at the intense look on his handsome face. His blue eyes blaze bright as he takes me in up close for the first time all night.
“Torture,” he whispers.
“What?”
“Absolute bloody torture to be this close to you when you look like everything I’ve ever wanted, and I can’t hold you properly.” He extends his hand to me. “But I’ll settle for a dance.”
I hesitate for a second, wondering if it’s wise, but then I decide I don’t care so much in this moment. Hopefully, the fact that I’ve danced with pretty much the entire team at this point will work in our favor and not draw attention.
When my palm settles into his, warm and calloused, it feels like I’ve come home. Something restless settles within me after running in circles in the desert. I’ve been coasting on auto pilot for so long, it never registered that I was burnt out and so lonely, using self-isolation as a defense mechanism. I learned to handle everything on my own because no one was going to come rescue me. They didn’t have to, not when I learned to shoulder every burden on my own. But Tieran barreled into my life, blindsiding me completely, and forced me to slow down—and for the first time, in my life I felt safe. He gave me a soft place to land after running never-ending marathons with no support, no one to cheer me on or tell me things will be okay when they’re hard. That feeling of security is almost terrifying in its reality.
He sweeps me into a slow dance, one hand holding mine and the other settled on my waist, pulling me intohim. The band softly plays an instrumental version of Sweet Nothings as we sway, bodies close but not touching.
“I missed you today,” he says, low enough that no one but me can hear.
I smile up at him coquettishly. “Why are you so obsessed with me?”
I mean it as a joke, but his expression morphs, serious as a statue. “I am?—”
“I was joking,” I laugh him off.
“I’m not. Jade, I—” He takes a second to gather himself, his head shaking a little. “I stoppedbreathingwhen you walked in. You’re—fuck, you’re breathtaking.”
My heart stops cold in my chest at the declaration, and for the first time, I feel everything he says I am. Powerful. Beautiful. Strong.
“Might have to have that checked out, it could affect your playing.”
His head falls back on a laugh that’s far too loud for the gentle song floating around the room. We dance until the final chord progression, reluctant to let go of each other at the end but knowing we have to. “Let's get a drink,” Tieran says.
He ushers me toward the back wall, where the open bar is set up. We’re waiting at the back of the queue when the couple at the front turns around, and my heart drops.
Standing before me is Oliver Hughes and Tieran’s ex-girlfriend, Olivia. She’s insanely beautiful in a fitted blue dress, with a plunging neckline showing off her ample bosom.
“Oh my God!” Her voice is like nails on chalk boards, but I don’t know if that’s because I hate her by default or because her voice naturally sounds like cats being dragged in cheesecloth down a cobbled alley. “Babe, look who it is!” Oliver grunts an acknowledgment, smug arrogance written all over his face.
Tieran’s face is unreadable, but he acknowledges her with a curt, “Olivia.”
“Isn’t this funny,” her voice chimes. She hasn’t even acknowledged that I’m here. “Last time I was at this gala was with you, T, and now I’m here with Ollie.”
Rage courses through my body as she talks about the choices she made as if we’re talking about the weather patterns for the next week. I want to pop her pretty, platinum blonde head right off her neck.
