Page 73 of Undeniable

Finally, the sun crested the horizon and warmed the air around us. But I was still frozen in the same spot, wishing he’d turn back around. Silently, I reminisced about everything we did during our month together.

I wouldn’t have changed a thing. But then again, if I’d known how it was going to end, I likely would’ve changedeverything.

TWENTY-FOUR

Ivy

The song lyrics—onesI’d listened to over andoveragain since I discovered the damn song—washed over me and I felt the telling prick behind my eyes.

I wasn’t going to cry. Not in front of all those people and sure as hell not in James’s arms.

Thankfully, we were tucked into the middle of the floor, surrounded by a thick crowd of dancers that were too preoccupied with each other to be concerned with what was happening between me and James.

Because something was happening.

Ever so slowly, he slid his hands down my arms. If he felt the goose bumps that appeared along my skin at the softness of his touch, he didn’t say anything. Instead, with our eyes locked, he seized my hands and placed them around his neck.

I didn’t pull back and I saw the triumph and happiness spark in his eyes when I clasped them tighter. His hands were less hesitant when they found my waist, probably because he knew I wasn’t going to run for the hills.

And to my surprise, no part of me wanted to run. That part of me that constantly wanted to flee when he was around was completely silent. I wanted to be right there.

I didn’t know if you could call what we were doing “dancing” since we were barely moving back and forth, but I didn’t think either of us minded.

As his eyes searched over my face, assessing each and every one of my features, I appraised him. For the first time since I’d run into him at Murphy’s Law, I reallylet myself look at him.

Time had been good to him. The sharp jawline he’d quickly gained early in high school was even sharper and now covered in a thick dirty-blond stubble. There were a few shallow lines around his eyes, smile lines that were proof of a life well lived.

His skin still tanned like it did in high school. Out in the sun for only an hour or two, and his complexion took on a golden glow.

I found myself considering how his skin felt against my palms as I scraped my nails through the thick blond hair at the base of his neck. Lucky for him, it was still thick all over and only an inch or two longer than how he used to wear it.

For a second, I wondered if he thought time had been as good to me. In my opinion—which was the only one that mattered—I thought I looked damn good. And by the way James was looking at me and touching me like he could do it forever and never get enough, I think he thought so, too.

He leaned forward slightly and breathed deeply. On a dance floor full of people, it was just us. Neither of our attention wandered from the other. And even after years of fortifying the walls around my heart and against all my better judgment, I didn’t stop any of it from happening.

“I’ve missed…” he began. His words were soft and trailed off into nothing as his eyes bounced between mine. “…dancing with you,” he finally whispered after a moment, and I had a feeling that it wasn’t entirely what he wanted to say.

I was tempted to ask what he’d really meant to say but immediately thought better of it.

God, it was such a bad idea. There were reasons, legitimate, excruciatingly valid reasons, why we hadn’t gone back to each other after all those years.

We’d hurt each other so badly that I didn’t think time had helped as much as I once thought it would. Time was not a reliable source of healing. Especially when the wounds ran so deep that you didn’t even know where they began anymore.

His words and his attention all over my face were too much for me to handle. I could feel the words he wanted to say, the ones I couldn’t even let myself contemplate, crawling over me like they were a physical thing. Hiding was easier.

So, I tucked my head against his chest, between his collar and his jaw. One of his hands pressed against my lower back, urging me closer while the other threaded through my hair at my nape.

I was still sweaty and sticky from being outside all day, but he didn’t seem to care and I was past it, too.

Impossibly close, I was reminded of all the times we’d danced together that summer. Illuminated only by the headlights or even the moonlight, we’d opened the truck’s doors and let the music spill out. Back then, when we were still so young and naive and hadn’t been completely devastated by the world, it was easy to think that those moments would stretch on forever.

We used to dance just as we were in that moment. He would hold me against his chest, hands roaming and his breath hot against my face or the back of my neck. And for a little while, there was no future where we weren’t together. There was no past either. It was just that moment, stretching on infinitely in every direction.

Pressed together, it was hard not to let myself fall into that black hole of the past.

And I homed in on the feeling of calm and warmth washing over me and dissected it for what it truly was.

There was a poignant longing that would never go away. Emotion clogged my throat and sharp tears pricked the backs of my eyes.

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