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Landon’s expression was light. “Work never ends, huh?”
“Haven’t you heard the phrase ‘a blogger never sleeps’?” I replied with a smile, walking closer to hear him better over the music. “Where’s your girlfriend? Lacey, right?”
“Not here yet.” His smile was soft under the lights that blinked with the soft beat. “How about you? Did you have a date?”
“Unless you count this baby.” I waved my phone.
“A lot less complicated.” Something flitted across his expression, almost like he regretted speaking.
“Come find me when Lacey gets here,” I told him, giving him a friendly smile. “I demand a picture of the two of you together for Babble.”
Landon nodded, but his lips fumbled their upturned tilt just a little. “Yeah, will do.”
I ventured once more into the fray of couples, and the first slow song switched into the second. The lights dimmed even lower for this one, the deep purplish blue making it tougher to navigate. I edged around a girl in a beautiful pink dress when a hand wrapped around my wrist, tugging me backward.
And I found myself pressed up against Reed Manning’s chest.
His beautiful, suit-clad chest.
“Dance with me?” he asked, releasing my wrist to rest his hand at my waist.
It was such a surprise that I found myself standing stock-still for a moment. My fingers landed on his smooth black tie, and I was close enough to be able to see the paisley-printed pattern on the black material. It was only a shade lighter than the tie itself, but beautiful. “Where’s Cindy?”
“She’s dancing with Ashton.” His other hand came up to rest on my other hip, firm enough for me to feel every single point of pressure through the material of my white dress. “And I wanted to dance with you.”
I swallowed past the thickness in my throat—swallowed the thoughts screaming at me to put distance between us—and allowed my hands to smooth their way up his suit jacket, resting at the tops of his shoulders. The top two buttons of his collared shirt were undone, but the fabric laid in a way that I couldn’t see his collarbone. It was weird to feel the firmness of the jacket, because once upon a time, I’d touched the bare skin here.
“You look stunning, you know. I thought I was imagining you when I saw you.”
“Because Ava Jenson couldn’t possibly look stunning?” I tried to sound teasing. I sounded tense instead.
Reed acted like he didn’t notice. “Because I didn’t think you could be real.”
I forced myself to look everywhere else but at him and the buttons that were undone at his collar. The butterflies, though, had already burst into action in my stomach, his words giving them life. “I told Rachel the truth.”
“About my dad?”
“About everything.” And then I added, “About the kiss.”
His fingers loosened their touch at my waist. “What—what did she say?”
I explained to him how she said she already had a feeling, but she wasn’t mad. I conveniently, though, left out the part where she said she was rooting for us. He didn’t need to know that. “I guess we worried for nothing.”
Reed’s left hand slid around my waist, creating a path of warmth as it settled on my lower back. The embrace became more personal, the fraction of a difference in where he put his hands. It fogged my brain. “Ava?”
“But it doesn’t change what I said yesterday,” I rushed, hating that my gaze returned to those buttons. “I meant it when I said we should stop.”
“Stop what?” Reed’s voice slipped lower as his head ducked toward me, and his voice filtered into my ear. “Stop caring about each other?”
“You only think you care about me,” I whispered, more because my voice disappeared as the slow song rose to its bridge. “It’s all because of that stupid kiss.”
Reed looked down into my eyes, the brown swimming with the multicolor strobe lights. They flickered wildly as the beat rose to a crescendo, casting glowing rays across his skin. “I think,” he began, hand giving my waist a gentle squeeze, “that you should stop pretending that the kiss meant nothing.”
It was a pity kiss. Reed’s words to Cindy echoed like a shout in a tunnel, distorting with every second, and the only thing that lingered was how they made me feel. I dropped my hands from him. “You shouldn’t say those things when you’re here with someone else,” I told him fiercely, bitterness seeping into my words. The song was almost over; it was on its last line. “You should go find her.”
Without waiting for him to respond, I threw myself into the crowd, trying not to knock into any couples but hardly managing it. My heels scraped across the floor as I hurried across it, uneven, like I was drunk. After several seconds, I burst from the dancefloor, gunning for the double doors that led out of the gym.
Watching from afar was enough. Pulling away from him was the smart idea. Minimal risk. I wasn’t sure I had it in me to give any more.
