Page 33 of The Charm of You

“Keely?” He cocks a brow. “She already left—with her new boyfriend.”

“Oh, it seemed like…”

“I’m single, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He eyes me, and his expression is irritatingly unreadable. “You can ask what you really want to know. You should be aware by now that I tell it like it is.”

“I’m painfully aware.”

“Well…” He lowers his head to meet me at eye level, his warm, minty breath skittering across my flushed cheek. “What do you really want to know?”

What you taste like.

It’s on the tip of my tongue, but thank God, I don’t say it out loud. How embarrassing.

Where did such an idea come from? Everything instilled in me goes against making out with grumpy men in flannel.

I don’t mean it any less, though. I instinctively go so far as to drop my curious gaze to his lips. They’re only a couple of inches away. We’re compacted together on this dance floor like pedestrians on a New York sidewalk—there’s barely room to breathe.

It’s easy to exist in this space.

It’s been comfortable and simple all night, like I haven’t been pretending at all, and I’ve enjoyed myself immensely for the first time in a while.

Austin dips his head lower, the tip of his nose grazing mine as softly as a feather.

The thrilling contact further disarms me.

My body buzzes, and my heart thumps like it’s trying to reach out of my chest and grab hold of him.

“All right, everybody!” Cole’s voice carries across the room, which is when I realize the previous song ended long ago, and I’m still cradled in Austin’s arms, as if I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

Before tonight, we were ready to chew each other’s heads off. A few hours ago, I would’ve laughed at the thought of us dancing, let alone doing anything else.

And I do believe we were headed into the category of “anything else.”

He was about to kiss me. Or did I imagine it? Surely, he wouldn’t have. It would have been bad for me and very unlike him.

Right?

Something’s in the air tonight. It’s the only explanation.

Clearing my throat, I pull away as Cole announces Austin, Gemma, and Hunter’s return to the stage to close out our evening.

Austin slips the rest of the way out of my personal space and rises up the steps to the stage without a backward glance.

My heart skids to a halt as I drift to the spot by the bar that the girls and I first occupied, but they’re not here anymore. As soon as Cole resumes his post behind the bar, I ask, “Have you seen Maren or Addie?”

“I think they left.” He furrows his brow. “You okay?”

“Of course,” I reassure him, although I don’t know how successful I am with the squeak in my voice.

I rode here with Addie, so I’m not as okay as I’d like to be.

Reaching under the bar, I unhook my purse and retrieve my phone to find a few texts from my mom. The earlier messages notify me that she’ll be at her part-time job at the nursery in the morning. She’ll likely be gone before I wake up, and she’s left me a casserole in the fridge to heat up for breakfast.

I click over to her more recent text, which was sent ten minutes ago, urging me to come home for a surprise.

What is that about?

I need to find a ride home, so I switch over to my texting thread with Addie to confirm she really did leave. Five new messages in a row apologize, but according to her, Austin insisted he’d love to give me a ride. He lives so close, anyway.

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