It was the fact that I was, and always had been, totally and completely in love with Ford.
He had no idea, of course.
We’d been friends since sophomore year in high school, and I’d developed my crush on him then, but I’d kept my feelings a secret. Continued to keep them a secret. Because I knew that Ford didn’t feel that way about me. He’d always dated girls like Claudia—old-money, tennis-playing, extroverted pretty girls who were just as comfortable riding their ponies at the country club as they were wearing ballgowns in the spotlight, who craved attention and popularity. I knew what he wanted, what he looked for in a woman, and it was not me.
We were just friends. We would always be just friends.
And honestly? That was enough for me. I wasn’t the arm candy type, anyway.
After finishing my second flute of champagne, I retrieved another glass from a passing tray. There was a classical quartet in the corner, and though it wasn’t really dancing music per se, I began swaying in time with the celloist.
I might have been a little tipsy. But I deserved it, didn’t I? After the day I’d had.
Drinking more bubbly, I wondered where Ford had wandered off to.
I’d really hoped the evening would be a distraction from the news I’d gotten from Stefan this afternoon, but the number written on the piece of paper that he’d torn up still haunted me. There was no way we’d be able to pay off the Bratva. Surely they knew this, and I couldn’t help worrying that they were already planning lots of horrible punishments, so they could make an example out of us to others in their network.
I shuddered at the thought.
It wasn’t that I thought Ford would have a solution, it was just that it was killing me to keep it from him. We were friends, we helped each other out. Just like I was helping him this evening by essentially being a shield against his family’s relentless questions about Claudia.
His mom didn’t believe that it was over between them. According to Ford, she kept insisting that he was just looking to sow his wild oats before he finally settled down with Claudia. Despite the fact that he kept insisting just as stubbornly that they were done.
The thing was, I knew Ford’s mother. She never took no for an answer. And if she wanted Claudia and Ford back together, then she’d do everything in her considerable power to make it happen. Hence, my presence tonight. I was here to distract Mrs. Malone as best I could and keep the peace.
I wasn’t exactly sure how I was supposed to accomplish that, unless Ford actually meant for me to annoy his mother (something I could do in my sleep), rather than distract her. At the very least, I’d been eager to spend time with Ford, but my date kept disappearing into the crowd. I knew he was hiding from his family, but the party was decidedly dull without him by my side.
Setting off into the largely older crowd, I tried to mingle. Events like these were usually perfect for shoring up support for my own charity; it was best to get rich people to agree to things while they were drunk and then shame them into their continued generosity later. But this time, I couldn’t even muster the energy to shake down anyone for money.
Suddenly, I spotted an IG influencer who would be a fantastic fit for spreading the word about my charity. She was laughing and drinking and taking pictures of everything—especially herself. I knew I should cross the room and introduce myself. Still, my boots stayed put. I could barely muster the energy for a charming smile, let alone manage a coercive conversation.
Thankfully, that was when Ford chose to reappear.
I always needed a moment to collect myself when I saw him. Regardless of how long we’d known each other, he was just so unbelievably handsome with his mischievous smile, unruly chestnut brown hair, and liquid brown eyes. Plus those adorable deep dimples I was perpetually teasing him about, and that perfect angular jaw. Standing there in his tuxedo, he looked good enough to eat.
In all possible ways.
I sipped my champagne, feeling a flush come over me as my eyes raked over him from head to toe and then back up again. A girl could look, couldn’t she?
“Having fun?” Ford asked, taking a drink from a glass of something that looked way darker and stronger than champagne.
I nodded, even though it was a lie. I was exhausted, and as much as I appreciated the sight of a cleanly shaven Ford in a tux with his hair smoothed back, smelling of cedar-esque cologne, I would honestly rather be spending the evening watching Netflix at home with my best friend, in a well-worn shirt and soft, broken-in jeans. The ones that molded to his ass perfectly.
It was hard to say what part of his body I liked the most. Those broad shoulders were the best for leaning on, and his big, strong arms made for some amazing hugs when they were wrapped around you. I guess he was just all around flawless. He was the kind of guy who took pride in the way he looked. He didn’t spend all day at the gym, but he was athletic and strong.
Then again, I really loved those dimples. Maybe they were the best part of him. I always fought the desire to kiss them.
Aaand I was definitely a little drunk. These were the kinds of thoughts I allowed myself to entertain when I was alone in my bed at night with my trusty vibrator. My only lover, ever.
It was probably a little pathetic, being a virgin at twenty-three, but ever since I secretly gave my heart to Ford back in high school, I hadn’t been able to find anyone that even came close to living up to him and the depth of our relationship. Sure, I’d had a few orgasms with guys, and I loved a good blowjob, but I just wasn’t a casual sex kind of person. I was still stubbornly saving myself for someone I loved. Someone special. I didn’t care that I was being either childishly romantic or stupidly old-fashioned about it. It was my choice.
“Thanks again for coming,” Ford said, but he wasn’t looking at me as he spoke.
His eyes were scanning the crowd. I knew he was looking for his mom, doing his damnedest to avoid her attempts to get him and Claudia back together, but I still felt invisible.
He hadn’t even noticed that I’d been moody all evening—quiet and subdued and lacking my usual snarky sense of humor. It was something he’d normally remark on, but Ford was instead completely focused on himself and on hiding from his family.
Despite that, he seemed to be having a great time.
