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“Dance with me?”
“You dance?” I eye him.
He grins, and I know I’m in trouble. Jace doesn’t smile much, but when he does, it means trouble.
“I have sex. Dancing is practically the same thing. You just have your clothes on.”
I roll my eyes.
He wiggles his fingers. “Come on, little star, dance with me.”
I sigh, slipping my hand in his as I stand, and he guides me onto the dance floor. He towers above my short frame, and I place my hands flat on his chest since I can’t wrap them around his neck.
Xander and Thea—who had a quickie wedding in Vegas and are now having this wedding so all of us could attend—twirl around us.
Jace might mock them for what they have, but I can’t help but feel a slight sting of jealousy.
I thought I had that once. A love that was impenetrable and everlasting. I was young, though, and so naïve.
Jace’s hands cup the small of my waist, and he moves us effortlessly around the dance floor. There’s only a handful of people dancing, but everyone seems to be having a good time. Xander and Thea chose to keep the wedding small and only had their closest family and friends come.
“You actually can dance,” I comment, unable to hide the surprise in my voice.
Jace chuckles. “Confession, I took dance lessons as a kid.”
My eyes widen and nearly pop out of my head. Dance lessons.
“Confession, I took ballet for five days before quitting much to the dismay of my parents. I have no rhythm,” I whisper like it’s some sort of secret.
Jace’s lips quirk in a smile.
I’ve been staying with him since the beginning of summer. I didn’t want to head home, back to Texas and that God-forsaken small town, and Jace’s roommate happened to be moving out so it worked out perfectly. Since then, we’ve developed a game we’ve simply dubbed Confession. That’s all it is. A confession, something we’ve never shared with another person but we’ve chosen to share with each other. Some of our confessions are silly and others are more serious. I love all of them. Each one gives me one small piece of the puzzle that is Jacen Kensington.
“You’re not so bad.”
“And you’re a liar,” I say, stepping on his toes. He doesn’t comment on my clumsiness and moves us easily around the dance floor. I’m light enough that he can hold me and guide me while I do nothing.
The song ends and bleeds into another. I expect him to stop, but he keeps going.
We dance to three more songs before returning to the table.
I pick up my camera and take a few photos of the bride and groom while they’re oblivious. There’s something about candid photos that leave a more lasting mark in your memory than something posed so I want to make sure they have plenty of those.
Xander and Thea had tasked Rae—another friend of ours—and me with taking photos at the wedding. Rae and I are both going to college for photography. I think they asked both of us to take photos because they didn’t want either of us to feel bad for not being chosen. I would’ve been fine if they only went with Rae, though. Weddings aren’t my thing. Don’t get me wrong, I knew I could and would get some amazing shots, but it wasn’t my passion. Rae liked to take photos of everything. But me? I preferred to make mine into something else. Conceptual photography was my go-to, but lately, something else was catching my eye and getting my wheels turning.
Jace.
God, I itched to photograph him.
He made the most mundane things look like the most exciting thing ever.
Like every morning, when he drank his coffee and read the newspaper still wearing his glasses since he never puts his contacts in first thing.
He fascinates me. I can’t think of any other twenty-three-year-old guy who still reads the physical newspaper. Let alone any kind of newspaper.
I’m sure if I asked him he’d let me. Jace isn’t a shy guy. But he is my best friend, and I don’t want to make things weird. I haven’t had a friend like him in a long time, and I’m not willing to mess with what we have for a few photos.
Click. Click. Click.
