Chapter 37 #4
I don’t know how to explain to him that the more time we spend together, the more my heart starts racing and panic starts clawing at my insides when we have any kind of audience or witnesses to our relationship.
I don’t know how to explain why the thought of my love life becoming a spectacle again makes me want to stay single forever.
Hell, I’m not sure I even fully understand why I can sit with him on the couch talking all night long, but put us in a crowded bar and I freeze up if he so much as touches me in front of other people.
“Hey, you.” His dark eyes sweep over my face, searching for something.
It still surprises me sometimes, how handsome he is.
With his angular jaw covered in the slightest hint of dark stubble, his full mouth turned up into a perpetual smirk and lashes any woman would die for, he really is beautiful.
I want so badly to rise up on my toes and kiss him, right here in the middle of this crowded bar.
But I don’t.
I can’t.
“What are you guys doing here?” Olivia asks, looking up at Cam. His arms are locked around her waist with her back pressed against his chest. She had never been the PDA type before meeting Cam, but those reservations went out the window long ago.
They’re disgustingly cute. And yeah, okay, I’m a bit jealous about the ease with which they fit together, neither one of them noticing or caring who’s paying attention to them.
And why would they? They’ll be married in two days.
They’re making it to that altar with the happy ever after waiting on the other side.
“Ty heard they have karaoke,” Cam explains, his chin resting on Olivia’s shoulder. “He wanted to show off.”
“This place could use an actual performance instead of… whatever this is,” Ty says, waving his hand toward the stage on the other side of the room. The woman clutching the microphone and wailing an off-key rendition of a Lady Gaga song emphasizes his point.
“Get in line, buddy,” Grace says, leaning over and poking his chest. “The ladies are going to knock the socks off this place. Shoes, too. Maybe even pants.”
“Nobody wants you removing their clothing, Grace,” Ethan drawls. The way he sways ever so slightly lets me know he’s just as drunk as the happy couple tonight.
“Really?” Grace fires back. “Could have fooled me when you were feeling me up while we made out in that coat closet. Seventeen-year-old Ethan wanted me to –”
“That was a dare,” Ethan cuts her off. Even in the dim bar lighting, I can see his face turning red. “And it was disgusting.”
“I think he wants to kiss her again,” Cam whispers to Olivia. Only he’s very drunk, and his whisper is more of a shout, and everybody in our group is now painfully aware that he just insinuated Ethan wants to kiss Grace.
“I haven’t had enough alcohol for that,” Grace scoffs.
But I can’t help noticing the way her eyes dart over to Ethan and then away, so quickly I wouldn’t have caught it if I hadn’t been watching her.
When I glance at Ethan, he’s staring at Grace with a look I can’t quite decipher – but something tells me Cam wasn’t too far off the mark with his comment.
There’s something a little bit hungry in his gaze, something I recognize because I’ve seen it on Declan countless times over the last few weeks.
Interesting. I’d wondered at least a few times over the years if there was something more to their bickering and bantering. The teenage makeout in a basement closet was a one-off; a stupid drinking game dare, like Ethan said.
“Gross,” Olivia whines, fake gagging as she sticks her finger in her open mouth. Thankfully, Ty provides a distraction from what’s becoming an increasingly uncomfortable conversation.
“Well, hello, bombshell,” he says, eyeing Olivia approvingly, as if only now noticing her outfit.
He glances at Grace and I, then Gail, who’s just returned from the bathroom.
“Wait, you ladies look hot as hell. You look – oh my god,” he says, realization dawning on him.
“Sandy,” he says, pointing at me. “Goddamn, girl – those leggings? Keep them forever.” He turns to Grace.
“You’re Andie, obviously. That dress was made for you.
” His attention returns to Olivia and he eyes her outfit, then her hair. “Pretty Woman? Vivian?”
“‘Rodeo drive, baby,’” Olivia quotes back at him.
“I’m obsessed.” Ty turns to Gail and whistles. “And Jenna Rink, you absolute goddess. Tens across the board.”
“He’s right,” a low, rumbling voice says in my ear. “You look fucking incredible tonight.”
I feel Declan’s fingers ghost across my lower back and I fight the urge to lean into his touch. Instead, I look up at him and smile, hoping he can read the apology there for the way I shied away from him before. “So do you,” I murmur.
Before I can say anything more, Grace grabs my hand and begins walking toward the stage, tugging me along behind her.
“Come on, Sandra Dee,” she calls over her shoulder, her attention focused on the stage she’s beelining toward. “It’s karaoke time.”