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“I don’t believe it could be that bad. You wouldn’t let it be bad.”
“It was a mess,” I promise, gently smoothing my hand through his dark hair. He groans, leaning into my touch as my fingers skim the tops of his ears. “Ask the others. We had the clean-up of our lives the next day.” I reach behind me for his shampoo, squeezing it into my palm. He lets out a long, heavy exhale as I begin massaging his scalp. “Nina was right earlier. The best ones were the ones we had in the spring—after that first one, of course. I’m not sure anything will ever beat the first. But November was always hit and miss with the weather. It became impossible to plan.”
There’s silence for a while, and it allows my attention to turn to the suds lathering in his hair. I knew what I was doing as I chatted my way into a sitting position at the head of the bath, making the choice to take care of him.
For seven years I had no idea how this man was. I didn’t know if he was okay, if he missed me, if he needed us.
I was alone and needed him desperately, but I didn’t know if he felt the same.
“Did you dance?”
I come back to the now. “Did I dance?”
“Did anyone ask you to dance?” he confirms, a little sharper.
His eyes are closed, his jaw now tense. “You mean with a man. Did any men ask me to dance?”
“Yes.”
I shake my head, rolling my eyes. “There was this one guy.”
“Who?” He frowns.
My heart flips.Traitorous little bitch. “He was gorgeous. Dark hair, tall—a clean-looking man.”
“Clean? What’s a clean-looking man?”
I slide my hand from his hair down across his jaw. “He didn’t have all this scruff.”
He goes to brush his lips to my hand, but I pull back, reaching for the shower head to wash out the shampoo. “What song?”
“It was years ago.” I chuckle, even though I remember.
“Was it romantic?”
“In a way, yes.”
His body jolts. “What was his name?”
I smooth my thumb over his forehead, swiping away the shampoo there. I decide to put him out of his misery. “Charles.”
His shoulders settle. “Aldridge?”
“It’s actually the only time I’ve danced at an event since the first we hosted. I didn’t want to. But it was the end of the night. Everyone was on the dance floor, and he wouldn’t let it be. He was drunk—Lissie was driving him wild at the time.”
“They weren’t together?”
“No. But they weren’t nothing. He came up to me, blue eyes shining, and told me to close my eyes and pretend it was you.”
Lance stills under my touch.
“I guess I always did a pretty shit job of hiding my feelings when it came to you. I mean, look at me now.”
He swallows, brows pinching together. “Why? What do you feel now?”
Everything. I feel everything, and it’s terrifying because I can’t. I let Mason back in and with Mason came Nina. Waverley is my entire world, my only reason. And now Lance is here, home, making me feeleverything.
I sigh, carefully rinsing the shampoo from his hair. “I feel like I’m running toward the sun, afraid that at any minute it’ll be knocked from the sky, leaving me in total darkness. Like there’s nothing I can do to stop it or save them.”
