Page 77 of The Moment I Knew

“I won’t survive another round!” My voice seemed to get lost amongst the laughter and the sound of balls thudding and the music playing. I looked around the space, trying to find pockets of safety, sprinting between paths of flying dodgeballs.

One came sailing toward my head and I barely ducked just in time.

“Imogen!” Cole called after me.

“Every man for himself!” I replied, sprinting another stretch and stopping just behind a boy as he got hit with the ball. I realized that the person I intended to hide behind was down now. I was exposed. Vulnerable to the game. I looked up, panicked as I saw three boys on the other side, all with a dodgeball in hand aimed at me. “Oh no,” I said again.

The leader counted to three, then they all threw. I was frozen in place, not sure where to go or how to avoid the attack. But just before they came sailing at me, Cole was next to me, grabbing my wrist and yanking me out of the path just in the knick of time.

The boys groaned as all three of their balls missed, bouncing sadly on the floor. Cole just chuckled as he ran with me to the perimeter of the dodgeball zone where it was safe. I pressed my back against the wall, catching my breath. Cole put an arm on the side of my head, his own chest rising and falling in deep breaths as he stared down at me.

He arched a brow. “What was that?”

I couldn’t think for a moment with how close he was to me. Then I shrugged and said, “Dodgeball.”

He huffed a laugh. “Princess, you froze.”

“Well, good thing you came to my rescue then.” I took in another breath. “You seem to be doing that a lot lately.”

His gaze softened. “I’m not going to just let you get hit in the face with three dodgeballs.”

“No, I mean… with Mitch. Here. You keep saving me.”

He brushed his thumb along my cheekbone. “You’re a girl worth saving.”

My breath hitched. His hand slid, moving from my cheek to behind my neck. For a heartbeat, he didn’t move, as if he was afraid of crossing a line. Of doing something that couldn’t be undone. My heart pounded in my chest as he leaned forward, almost pressing his body into mine. In my mind, I flashed back to Saturday evening outside my house, when I’d felt the same. When he’d leaned so close to me and then pulled away like it meant nothing.

Please don’t do it a second time.

“Is this okay?” he murmured. His lips brushed mine, sending tingles through me. I nodded, barely, but it was enough for him as he closed the gap and caught my mouth with his.

It was soft at first, almost tentative—a feeling I’d never associated with Cole Mercer before today. But that didn’t stop me from feeling it everywhere, from the warmth that spread through my chest to my fingers that curled around his shirt without me meaning to. I melted into him as he held me close, gently memorizing every piece of him before the moment could end.

twenty-four

I put my hands on my hips and stared at the dress laid out on my bed. It was prettier than it had any right to be—it was an elegant off-the-shoulder black dress with a full skirt that I wasn’t sure I would have picked out for myself, but was stunned to look at now.

I lifted it carefully, almost reverently, and held it against my chest. The fabric was soft and heavier than I expected. It was clearly from a high-end store, but I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything less from Hilary.

When she first suggested that she pick out a dress for me, I’d only said yes to get away from her, but now that I was actually looking at the dress—which had been delivered to my house without a note, but she did send me a text to let me know—I had to begrudgingly admit it looked good.

I shook my head, trying to convince myself. No. You’ll hate it the second you try it on. You’re imagining things.

I dropped it back onto the bed just for long enough to strip off my hoodie and leggings, then I pulled the dress on and looked in my full-length mirror. Immediately, my stomach twisted—not with discomfort, but disbelief. It fit. Every curve, every line of me, without being tight or showy. The hem fell just the right length. The neckline wasn’t too high or too low. It was… perfect.

I turned slowly in front of the mirror, expecting the fatal flaw to appear. Nothing. I lifted my arms. Checked the back. The seams were smooth. The color complemented my skin. My chest rose and fell, trying to slow the beat of my heart. I wanted to hate it. I really did. But I couldn’t.

I was still staring at myself in the mirror when my door was thrown open. I jumped back, going to cover myself as if that would make the dress any less conspicuous. Ainsley walked into my room, looking at her phone.

“Hey, Clementine’s coming over to…” She trailed off as she looked up and saw what I was wearing. She blinked a few times, like she was struggling to process it.

“Does it look bad?” I asked hesitantly. I smoothed down the skirt, wondering if I’d somehow completely imagined how good I thought it looked. Maybe my opinion couldn’t be trusted and it was actually so awful that I could never wear it anywhere.

Was it bad that I was kind of hoping that was the case?

“It looks amazing!” Ainsley gushed. “Is it for the party?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. I turned back to the mirror and ran my hands over the front of the dress again, smoothing it out. I cleared my throat. “Since I didn’t find one on the weekend and I didn’t want to re-wear the one from last year if I didn’t have to, I tried ordering this one online.”