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My heart thuds against my chest, and my entire body goes cold as people pass in front of where I thought I’d just seen...No. No, it couldn’t be. I strain to search through the crowd, but the man and the hat are nowhere to be found. My heart is still racing and the memory from the parade rears up, that feeling of being watched.
No. I’m just being paranoid, I tell myself.This is ridiculous.
“—ttie?”
I turn back to Kasey, shaking myself. “I’m so sorry, what?”
"You zoned out there for a second," she says with a laugh.
I glance over my shoulder again, back to where I thought I saw him, where I would have sworn for a second that I saw Josh. Nothing there.A million people in the world have orange hats, Hattie. Get a grip.
“I'm sorry, I just thought I saw someone I knew.”
Her eyes narrow a little in concern. “Are you alright? You look a little pale.”
I force myself to shake off the sick feeling that wormed its way into my stomach and is clenching my heart like a fist, and wave her concern away, plastering a smile on my face.
“I’m fine, I just haven't eaten anything today—unless three cups of coffee counts as eating?” We both laugh a bit. “I’m so sorry, what were you saying before I got distracted?”
“Oh, I was asking…well, you and Shep…?”
My brows draw down. “Me and Shep what?”
“Are you two…dating?”
Now my brows shoot upward. “Oh, no. Definitely not. We’re just friends.” I blurt out the line that I’ve repeated so many times in my head automatically, but even as I say the words, they taste like a lie.
She smiles. “Ok, that’s what he said too, but I just wanted to be sure, especially after the other night…” I don’t know why a swift jolt of disappointment goes through me at that. Of course he would say we’re just friends. Wearejust friends.Stop being stupid.
I keep my smile firmly in place. “Nope, totally just friends. I mean, really good friends, but that’s all. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, I was going to try to set him up with one of my girlfriends. I think they’d get along great, but I just wanted to make a thousand percent sure I wasn’t stepping in the middle of something with you two.”
My stomach twists painfully at the idea, though it’s stupid and unfair. I make sure I sound nonchalant when I respond. “Oh, yeah, definitely. Go for it. That’ll be—"terrible"—great.”
“Awesome. Well, I better finish shopping or I’ll be coming to the party in my pajamas.” She grins and I try to return it but it feels brittle. “I’ll see you later!”
“See ya,” I mutter as she saunters off towards Angelica’s. I watch her go, not really sure how I feel about her setting Shep up with someone, but really, I don’t have a right to feelanyway about it. Like I said, technically, Connor and Iarejust friends…because I’ve been too scared to tell him I want more. Now Kasey is going to set him up on a date and the fire that lights under my ass is honestly a bit embarrassing. So, that’s it. I’m going to tell him now, fuck waiting until January. I have enough faith in our friendship that we can bounce back and sweep any awkwardness under the rug if he doesn’t feel the same, just like we did when I almost kissed him that night.
It'll be fine either way. Totally and completely fine.Then why do I feel like I’m going to puke at the thought of bringing it up?
Before I spiral down the wormhole of freak-out, I head to my car. I’m so focused on Connor and confessing my feelings, I don’t even search the crowd for that damned Longhorns hat again.
Chapter Fifteen
Connor
The Christmas party is always a good time. It’s in the ballroom of a swanky hotel that overlooks the Sound, and the organization books out the entire top three floors for everyone to stay the night if they want. Ollie is at her grandparents’ house tonight, so I plan on crashing here so I don’t have to worry about drinking and getting an Uber all the way home.
I knot my tie in the floor-length mirror, and pull my suit jacket on. I turn this way and that, making sure everything looks good.Not too shabby. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t doing it all with Hattie in the back of my mind, wondering what she might think. I’ve been having a major internal debate tonight, have been all fucking day, actually. I keep telling myself that it’s a stupid idea, but I think I’m going to broach the subject of being more than friends. God that sounds so fucking juvenile and cliché and stupid, but whatever. I’m tired of pretending that I don’t feel things for her, things that friends don’t feel for each other. Sure, there’s risk, but the reward could be worth it and more.Go big or go home, right?
Still, I’m not completely sure when the right time is, or if there’s ever a right time. I keep flip flopping.Yes, it’s a great idea. No, it’s fucking stupid. It’s worth the risk. No the fuck it’s not.I feel like a dog chasing his tail. I’m never like this and I don't know how to handle it. Annoyed and frustrated, I try to force the argument away from the forefront of my mind, telling myself to just enjoy the evening, and if the time is right, I’ll know it.
I head down to the ballroom, the elevator ride taking a bit of time from the thirty-fifth floor. By the time the bell rings and the doors slide open, I’m feeling more like myself. I nod to the security guards posted at the end of the hallway leading to the ballroom to keep fans away from the event, and they incline their heads, stepping out of the way so that I can pass.
“Hey fucker,” Rizzo yells out as I enter the ballroom. As always, it’s decorated beautifully: a huge Christmas tree in one corner decorated all in gold and red, red and gold tablecloths, an ice sculpture in the shape of the Vipers’ emblem. A small dancefloor is set up on the far end of the room, a DJ table not far off in the corner. For now, Christmas music plays in the background, but by the end of the night it’ll be a full-scale club scene. The back wall of the room is floor to ceiling windows, looking out over the water. It’s seriously gorgeous…and also romantic.So, maybe the right time could be tonight?
I join Rizzo and a handful of other guys at the bar. I order a Jameson and ginger ale and we do the first of many toasts of the evening. I mingle, saying hello to spouses and dates, catching up with various members of the organization, but my eyes are constantly scanning the room, looking for Hattie.
