We walk toward the entrance. This time, he doesn’t put his hand to my back to guide me through the crowd, either because he’s busy texting the driver that we’re ready to go or because I complained about being hot, I’m not sure.
Either way, I miss the comforting weight of his hand on my skin.
Funny how quickly I got used to having him touch me like that. How addictive it was being the focus of his attention tonight. How much I miss it already.
I would have thought, after knowing him all this time, that I knew his every expression and mood, but suddenly I can’t read him at all. It’s like tonight we’ve entered the upside down world where nothing makes sense anymore.
“Are you done talking to Bruce?” I ask, less because I’m curious and more just to have something to say. When he doesn’t answer right away, I blurt, “I thought it went well. Did you think so?”
He slides his phone back into his pocket and then keeps his hands tucked there as well, like a deliberate signal that he’s not going to touch me. Lips pressed into a hard line, he says, “It was fine.”
“Don’t you need to mingle more?” I ask.
He shoots me a look that’s at least a little less annoyed than his earlier, uncharacteristic growling.
“No. I think we’ve had enough of that.”
“Okay.” I nearly push back on that.
Shouldn’t we at least make another round? With any luck, we’ll run into the Langley’s one last time so we can say goodbye, and I can cement their budding opinion that Keegan is the only guy who can develop their property with the care it deserves.
But before I can suggest this, I glance at Keegan. He looks ... tired. His perennial smirk has flattened into a frown. There’s no spark of humor in his eyes. A decade of friendship and this is the first time he’s been eager to leave a party..
I want to chalk it up to the strain of dealing with his dad, but is that really it?
His inexplicable moodiness is a puzzle my gut wants to solve, but my brain just isn’t up for.
“I wish you’d just tell me what went wrong. Did I embarrass you?”
But he doesn’t answer and before I know it, we’re out by the circular drive and the car is pulling up in front. We didn’t stay long, so we’re clearly among the first to leave and there’s no wait for our car.
Instead of letting the valet open the door for me, he does it. As he holds open the car door, I turn as I’m about to slide into the car. For a moment, we’re standing so close, not side by side like we have been most of the evening, but facing one another. I feel myself getting lost in the storm of his eyes. Getting drawn in.
The magnetic pull of his gaze is something I usually avoid. That’s the key to quashing a secret crush on your best friend. One of them, anyway. No prolonged eye contact. Keep it light. Keep it fun. Avoid deep and soulful, longing-inducing gazes.
I don’t know why I break my rule now. Maybe it’s all the wine I’ve had—not to mention the Bluebonnet. Or maybe it’s because I’m still unsettled by my encounter with Reid. Or maybe it’s because I feel like something shifted between us tonight, and I just want to go back to the familiarity of our normal relationship.
Whatever the reason, I break my keep-it-light, no-lingering-gazes rule. I nearly reach out to touch him, but pull back, because stroking his arm feels like something Selah would do. If breaking the no-lingering-eye-contact rule was dangerous, stroking his arm would be even more dangerous. Even if stroking his arm is something Sasha would do, I don’t.
Maybe I’ve broken enough rules tonight.
I settle into the seat as he closes the door and rounds the back of the town car. He climbs in on the other side and shuts the door with what feels like more force than necessary.
We ride back to my house in miserable, stony silence. The car is filled with tension. Not the kind of fun tension that filled the car on the ride to the gala. Not anticipatory, tingly tension. No, this is cold, angry tension and I don’t even understand how we got here.
Everything feels so different than it did just a few hours ago, and I don’t know how to get back to where we were. I would be fine going back to where we were before today. Before he kissed me. But I can’t even figure out how to go back to that.
As soon as the town car stops in front of my house, I fling open the door and jump out.
“I guess I’ll see you later.”
I slam the door, expecting Keegan to have the driver just leave me there. But he doesn’t. He climbs out and shuts his own door. I’m already halfway up the path to my condo when he says, “Meg, slow down.”
I barely glance over my shoulder. “Y-you don’t have to w-walk me to the door.”
“Of course I’m going to walk you to the door.”
“It’s okay. Really. You can just leave and go back to ... Whatever.”
