“Right.” She rolls her eyes. “But you still are.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
She draws out a hiss. “If you weren’t in love with her, you’d just say no.”
I glance at her and she looks upset before she looks away. I don’t know why she would even be upset by it so I shrug it off.
Maggie turns to watch them for a moment before tilting her head, a playful glint in her eye. “Want to dance? I kind of feel like letting loose on a dance floor and drinking lots of alcohol.”
“Honestly, same.” I smile a little, relieved at the distraction.
The lights dim, casting a warm, intimate glow over the crowd. The band strikes up a slow song, one of those nostalgic tunes that always finds its way into these kinds of events. Maggie and I find a spot in the middle, our bodies swaying to the rhythm.
I try to focus on the music, on the feel of Maggie’s hand resting on my shoulder, but the room feels like it’s shrinking as I steal glances back toward Jenna and Paul.
The laughter and easy camaraderie between them make me feel like an outsider. They look so comfortable, so familiar witheach other, and the knot of jealousy continues to squeeze at my chest.
I know it’s irrational to feel this way—she’s free to do whatever she wants. It’s not like we’re in a relationship.
Seeing them together is a reminder of how easy it was for her to leave me. And she had to do it with my best friend. I thought I was over the hurt, the tightness in my stomach tells me otherwise.
“What do I have to do to make you get over her?” Maggie murmurs in my ear, and her hand slides to my neck, her fingers tracing a line that makes me shiver slightly.
I meet her eyes, and there’s something tender and hopeful in her gaze. She leans in slowly, and before I can fully process what’s happening, her lips are on mine.
It’s a soft kiss, unsure at first, but in an instance it deepens.
I’m caught off guard, my mind racing to catch up with the unexpected turn of events. I feel the warmth of her breath, the faint taste of her lipstick, and the gentle pressure of her lips against mine.
What the hell is Maggie doing?
The crowd’s response is immediate—a burst of clapping and cheers, a collective acknowledgment of what they perceive to be a sweet, romantic moment.
I pull back immediately, my pulse quickening.
“I always knew you two had chemistry!” Someone yells over the applause, and everyone bursts into laughter.
Colin adds. “Maggie and Dylan? wow.”
I glance over Maggie’s shoulder, and the room’s applause fades into the background as my eyes lock onto Jenna. Her face is a blank canvas, her expression unreadable.
It’s like she’s not even there, and the sight of her not reacting, not showing any emotion at all, twists something inside me.
Oh, this isn't good.
Maggie’s arms are still around my neck, her lips curling into a shy smile as she pulls away.
“Dylan… I—”
I take a step back, but she holds on to me. “Do this for me, Dylan.”
Her eyes are pleading, as if she's trying to keep her emotions at bay. I hold onto her, not quite understanding what’s happening. The warm glow of the lights feels oppressive now, and the room seems to pulse with a low, insistent thrum that matches the pounding in my head.
The kiss was unexpected, and the crowd’s reaction has shifted the spotlight onto us in a way that makes me very uncomfortable.
The music shifts to a faster tempo, and Maggie starts to sway more energetically. She tries to draw me into the rhythm, her laughter mingling with the beat, but my mind keeps drifting back to Jenna.
What must she think of the kiss?