Page 114 of In Your Wake

Across the lawn, Mitch keeps looking at me. Not subtle glances either. Full, steady attention that makes my skin too warm beneath my dress.

Is he trying to intimidate me, to piss me off? Is he mentally undressing me like I’ve caught myself doing to him several times tonight? Whatever he’s doing, I’m feeling it all. No doubt I’m being attacked by bugs because I’m emitting millions of pheromones.

I sip my beer and pretend not to notice him, which soon fails once he starts walking toward me, wearing that determined stare and telltale smirk. It’s identical to when he’s on a breakaway, or headed to smash someone into the boards.

Fine, I’ll admit; sometimes I watch his games. So, sue me.

I should get out of here. Leave this spot. But my high-heels sank into the soft grass a while ago and I wouldn’t make it too far before he caught up.

“So,” he says once he reaches me. “Turned out to be a pretty good night.”

“Yep.”

“You look beautiful, by the way.”

“I look like Princess Peach,” I reply, wincing.

“Nah, nothing like Princess Peach.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He laughs softly and lets his gaze linger a second too long. “I mean she doesn’t hold a candle to you tonight.”

I immediately roll my eyes because otherwise I’ll combust. The sincerity in his voice completely ruins me. I’m melting like a fucking ice sculpture set in the midday sun.

I clear my throat. “You cleaned up pretty good yourself.”

He glances down at his shirt and shrugs. “Spencer bullied me into dressing like an adult.”

“Miracles do happen,” I answer with a smile.

We stand there quietly for a second, watching our friends dance. Then Billy Joel’s Just the Way You Are starts playing through the speakers.

“Your favorite,” I say, remembering Mitch’s obsession with the song.

“Damn straight. Billy Joel’s a legend.”

“If you say so.”

“Still not a fan?”

“Nope.”

“Will your hatred of him stop you from dancing with me?”

I groan. “Absolutely.”

Mitch grins. “Come on.” He offers me his hand, anyway. “Dance with me.”

“I am so not dancing with you.”

His smile fades as he nods once. “Okay.”

The disappointment etched on his face hits me squarely in the ribs.

Damn it.

“Fine,” I mutter, putting my beer down. I grab his hand before I can rethink my decision and pull him toward the dance floor.