CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
LIAM
“That’s what I mean! I mean, she must’ve felt something!” Chase yells through the speaker, and I wince at that, setting the phone on the counter as I start to fix my hair. “Hello?” he asks, and I roll my eyes.
“I’m still here.”
“Well? Has Bianca said anything?” I smirk as he refers to her by her first name, no nickname. I mean, they had found us in a bit of a compromising position the other night at the tattoo parlor.
In his head—she’s mine. Just like I like it. I scrunch the strands of hair as I add in some conditioner to make my hair fluffy, how she said she liked it.
“No. And even if she did, I wouldn’t tell you. Stop being a wimp and text Jamie.”
He scoffs. “I did. Twice.” He sighs in frustration. Poor guy’s never had to pursue , and now getting to know Jamie a bit . . .
Yeah, I wish him luck.
“Dude, a couple of weeks ago, I was chilling. Hanging with girls, living the life. And then I see Jamie . . .” He doesn’t elaborate, and I know exactly what he means. That’s how I’ve felt about Bianca since I was eight years old.
“I feel you, man,” I mutter, pulling at my suit, feeling a bit self-conscious. I close my eyes, hoping I don’t regret this as I tap the option to video call him. He picks up, giving me a confused look. “How do I look?” I back up, showing him my all-black outfit with a deep emerald tie. He whistles.
“You look fly, dude. What’s with the green tie, though?”
My face flushes in embarrassment. “I may or may not have found out what color her dress is.”
Chase bursts out laughing at the admission. “Never thought I’d see the day. I mean, the Campus Grouch this whipped?”
“So, I look good, then?” I ask, receiving a nod.
“Someone’s getting some today.”
I cringe at that. “Oh, come on. Is that all you think about?” Honestly, I’m nervous. I mean, obviously I am if I’m asking for Chase’s opinion.
“It’ll be fine, man. You got this,” he says, and I nod as I sit, rubbing my hands on my dress pants subconsciously. “Hey, quick question.” I glance at the camera. “What time does the thing start?”
My eyes dart to the clock and grimace before hanging up without a goodbye.
I quickly shrug on my tux jacket before grabbing my keys and sprinting to the door.
She’s going to think I didn’t want to come, or worse, that I wanted to avoid her.
I was so nervous that I didn’t even notice the time.
I speed along the road, my eyes looking at the GPS and the road simultaneously.
I’m coming, Freckles.
I toss the keys to the valet, muttering a “thank you” when I finally make it there. Thanking everything above, I didn’t get stopped, even though I may or may not have broken a few traffic rules. I start walking quickly, looking for the only girl who makes me want to smile.
I struggle with the entrance to the ball. After a bit, the company banner outside a set of doors comes into view and I walk in to find a bunch of people dancing. Thankfully, there’s a huge board with a diagram of the name plaques, and I find mine.
While we’ve been texting and calling, I didn’t push too much, wanting her to spend as much time with Jamie as possible.
Tonight is the first night I actually get her all to myself in this new stage of giving our friendship another shot, hopefully one day working up to the trust we had before.
Scanning the room, I notice someone with their head down.
Focusing my eyes on the person, they widen when she lifts her face to stare out into the crowd.
There she is.
An emerald dress, thankfully, that looks so gorgeous on her.
Her hair is falling over her back in cascading waves, and I want to twirl one of the strands around my finger.
She seems not to notice me as she’s looking toward the dancing couples.
I take a deep breath, readjust my jacket, and slide into my chair.
Her head snaps to me and I can’t stop the way my mouth turns up when I say, “Hey.”
She looks at me, shocked to see me here, and I don’t miss the opportunity to really look at her. Her adorable freckles are on display, making me want to kiss every single one of them.
“Hey,” she whispers back, and my mouth widens into a full-on grin. She looks at me and my whole body erupts in butterflies. My heart beats quickly as she does a once-over, zeroing in on my tie.
“What?” I ask coyly, and she rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile as she shakes her head and blushes. I glance at the dance floor when Mom spots me. She waves, as does Dad, and I send them a curt nod.
Blowing out a breath, I ask, “Freckles?” When her blue eyes meet mine, my train of thought derails, and I’m left a stumbling idiot.
“Would you, uh—maybe—well,” I stutter, and she giggles at me.
Goodness, if I thought I would get my thoughts back together, that sound right there throws me off again.
“What I meant to ask is if you wanted to dance with me?” I hold out my hand and she looks at me, confused.
Am I a good dancer? More or less.
Will I do anything to hang out with her? Absolutely.
She nods and slides her dainty hand in mine, and I smile as I stand us up.
We walk to the dance floor and I exhale sharply.
We stand there for a bit, nervous, for my part at least. She looks as lost as I am and I gently guide her hands to wrap around my neck.
I pull her flush against me, my arms curving around her waist.
Butterflies erupt in my stomach as I keep Bianca close.
Her eyes hold mine in a way that makes my heart race.
As we sway together, she melts into my arms, and I find myself losing track of everything else.
Pressed against each other, every inch of contact sends warmth surging through me.
My entire being responds to her presence.
The world around us fades, leaving only her captivating eyes that seem to hold infinite galaxies within them.
When her hand moves, she unknowingly releases a thousand more butterflies into the already dizzying mix.
When she rests her face against my chest, I hold her tighter, never wanting this moment to end.
Her cheek against my heart feels right, and I can’t help but notice how rapidly it beats beneath her touch.
“Why’s your heart racing?” she asks, and I can’t hide the blush that creeps up my cheeks.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I counter, realizing mine is keeping pace with hers. Her blush matches mine and I lift her head, gently brushing my thumb against her cheekbone. “You look stunning tonight.”
“You’re not too bad yourself,” she replies, a smile lighting up her face.
“Really? The tattoos don’t ruin the look?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Of course not. You do realize I have tattoos too, right?”
I smirk. “Tattoos? So, you have another one besides the one I did on you a bit ago?” I coyly ask as if I don’t already know.
I trace her side, feeling her shiver under my touch.
“Will you show them to me someday?” My voice betrays the emotions stirring within me.
I can’t help but smile as I tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
Not knowing what else to do, she nods. I smile as my hand goes back to her waist, rubbing my thumbs along her sides, and she gulps.
“I actually think you look more handsome with your tattoos.” Honesty drips from her words, and there’s an instant rush of dopamine.
“You think I’m handsome?” I tease, reveling in her embarrassed giggle.
“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world to me,” I admit, watching her eyes sparkle slightly.
The song ends and I look at her, disappointment on my face.
“Wanna take a walk with me?” I grip her hand, running a thumb over every one of her knuckles.
She looks at me, biting her lip in thought, then glances back at the table.
Everyone seems to be busy in conversation except for Lydia or Olivia or whatever her name is, who is staring directly at us.
“Okay.”
I pull her toward me, finding the exit. Holding the door open, a little gazebo catches my eye.
Sliding my fingers in with hers, I lead her to it.
As we leave the concrete, she stops because her heels seem to dig in the grass.
Without a second thought, I bend down and pick her up, and she squeaks, shocked.
“Is this okay?” Her minty breath, along with her sweet perfume, invades my senses.
She nods and I walk us the rest of the way, setting her down when we get there.
She looks up and begins to trace the stars with her pointer finger, and like all those years ago, I watch her.
She smiles, and I hate that what I might say may ruin that, but I know it’s time to get it off my chest, and put this to rest . . . for good.