“Security,” Andrew moans.
“Oh, I’m that, too,” Lily says before she whips out a pair of handcuffs and bends down to swiftly secure them around Andrew’s wrists. Then she turns to me. “I’ve got this. He won’t bother you again.”
I grin. “Thanks, Lily.”
Chapter 41
Evan
Lilyhasgoneallout, and I’m not surprised. She’s taken all the juiciest headlines and social media hashtags of Rachel and me, blown them up, and had them made into signs to decorate the entire venue, which is a place called The Edge, where you can party over one thousand feet above the city. It has glass floors and angled glass walls that you can lean against and feel like the city is below you—all its lights glittering, as if the city is an ocean made of stars.
She’s also hired her favorite DJ, caterer, and invited practically everyone who’s anyone.
But there’s only one person in this room that pulls my mind, body, and soul toward her like she’s gravity, and she’s wearing that red satin dress with those straps that make it hard to pay attention to absolutely anything else.
Especially whoever this man is that’s saying something about the shrimp appetizers or the DJ’s setlist—I can’t tell. His voice fades into the background noise, just like the pulsing beat, the clinking glasses, the low hum of the large crowd.
All I can see is her.
Rachel’s laughing with Lily, who is dressed in silver sequins from head to toe. She’s her own disco ball, the party moving wherever she is, which means there are about twenty or thirty people flockingaround the two women that I care about more than anyone else in the world.
I watch as Rachel catches my stare, her hand brushing lightly against the side of her neck, and I’m pretty sure I forget how to breathe for a second. The red dress clings to her like it was made for no one else, and the lights from the city catch in her hair, making it shine like some kind of halo, even though the look in her eyes looks anything but innocent. Like she’s also wishing we were anywhere but here…Just us.
I don’t look at the guy jabbering about Benson Boone or Looney Tunes, context tells me it’s the first, but it doesn’t even matter. I just smile and say, “Excuse me.”
And then I stride toward Rachel, parting the crowd, because I’m Evan Michaels and this is kind of my end-of-this-crazy-book-tour party.
I don’t say anything when I’m in front of Rachel. I just grab her hand and lead her away from everyone who can enjoy all the free food and entertainment without us.
Once we’re alone in a small corner of the room, I kiss her smile. “You were distracting me in that dress, and I needed a moment with you.”
She grins at me. “You know, six weeks ago I thought you hated my dresses.”
“I like all your dresses,” I say. “But this red dress…You could ask for anything in this dress, and I’d give it to you.”
“Noted.” She laughs. “I’ll start making my list.”
“Before you start requesting things…” I pause, reaching for what I’ve hidden under a small table. I reveal a clear plastic box with a corsage made of mini red roses and baby’s breath, along with a matching boutonniere. “I got something, and it’s okay if you think it’s kind of cheesy.”
“What’s this?” she asks, her smile reaching her glistening green eyes.
“Well,” I start to explain as I open the box and take the corsage out, “remember when I said I didn’t finish high school. I didn’t go to prom either, and well, I figured this could be prom for me. I never would have found the perfect date since I didn’t know you, so I think it’s better this way.”
I’m watching her as she looks up toward the high ceiling, blinking back tears so they don’t fall and smudge her thin coat of mascara.
I laugh. “I love how you appreciate sincere moments.”
She extends her arm, and I slip the flowers on her wrist.
“It’s a good thing I love cheesy, even though I don’t think this is cheesy at all,” she replies.
I hand her the boutonniere. “Care to assist?”
She takes the boutonniere carefully, placing it against my suit jacket gently before sticking the pin through the lapel and through the stem until it’s secure.
“You’re cute when you’re concentrating,” I remark.
“Am I not cute when I’m not concentrating?” she retorts with a playful grin.
