Page 31 of Made Better Together

I’d switched into flip-flops when we got back to the house earlier, so his nine extra inches are fully evident as he peers down at me, and I have to tilt my head up.

“Have a good junior year, Eden.” His voice is loaded with warmth, maybe more than ever before. It’s like he’s trying to say something else.

“You too. Senior year, I mean.”

With a few people still milling around the driveway, there’s no opportunity for us to touch each other.

Instead, he simply ducks into his seat and drives off.

8

CONNOR

PRESENT DAY

“Hello, Eden.”

“Hello, Connor.”

“Close the door.” My breath speeds up. I try to mask it with a swallow.

She shuts the door as I asked, a flush spread across her cheeks.

Maybe she’s been anticipating this like me? Or maybe it’s the champagne I saw her sipping at her table.

“Nice trick with that name card,” she says as she turns back to me.

“I only figured out a plan when I could walk around this place for a minute, and I wasn’t sure you’d check your DMs in the middle of the reception.”

A smile rises on her face. “Well…it’s good to see you.”

We’re both quiet for a moment, staring. She’s standing three feet away, absolutely glorious in that blue dress with all her skin on display.

I’d love to close that three feet, but then what? We’re at my sister’s wedding, and we haven’t spoken in a year.

I hadn’t really thought much past creating a chance to talk to her one-on-one.

She sets her purse down on a shelf. “Are we staying in here and sharing a bottle?”

I glance around. One half of the room has a cooler system; the other, for the red varieties, doesn’t. I spot one red that has a screw top. Score.

“Funny you should ask.” I pull the bottle off the shelf and open it.

She gives a little laugh.

“You’re always so handy, Connor.”

“Yeah, don’t spill this time, though,” I respond wryly. “That dress looks expensive”—I bring my eyes briefly up and down her body—“and I don’t have any supplies.”

Her blush returns as she observes my perusal. Once our eye contact is reestablished, she lifts her chin and smiles again.

“Are you going to serve me?”

I hand her the open bottle. “I failed to grab glasses, so you’ll have to drink out of the bottle.”

“Classy,” she teases with a giggle before taking a swig.

“So you’ve been in California? How was it?”