Page 31 of Taking Chances

“I’m far from a teenager.” I won’t let her get in my head.

“You know what I’m saying. Men like that are not the men you marry,” she’s full-on whisper-yelling now.

“Maybe I’m not looking for someone to marry. Maybe I just want to have some fun.” I shrug.

“He’ll just use you before he finds someone better,” she spits out.

Her words are like a punch to the sternum, knocking my breath out. Even Brad’s brows raise in shock, but he would never tell her she crossed a line.

Using what Bryce did to me is foul, but what hurts even more is that Lennox isn’t even interested in me.

Here she is, acting concerned while she has absolutely nothing to worry about. I’m not enough to even spark his interest, let alone keep it.

Lennox returns with a satisfied smirk, but it quickly disappears when he notices my expression.

“Let’s drink this and head to the dance floor.” It’s not a question, it’s a demand, and I’m too out of it to protest. We clink our glasses and down the whiskey he brought. The amber liquid slides down my throat, the taste strong but soothing, reminding me of the time we drank it at my place.

He takes my glass and sets it on the table before taking my hand and leading me to the dance floor. There are enough people to get lost in the crowd and he brings us into the middle of it.

One of his hands slides over my lower back, pulling me flush to him.

“What happened?” he asks, staring into my eyes as we start to sway in sync with the slow music. We’re so close my barely covered nipples are grazing his chest, and I feel it more than appropriate.

“My sister. Nothing new.” I look away, but he turns my chin back around, his touch burning my skin.

“What did she say?”

“That you’ll only use me before finding someone better.” My voice is barely audible, but I swear I see the hairs on his neck stand up.

“Fuck. You know she’s not right, don’t you?” His deep blue eyes are almost pleading, so unlike the typical, confident look he has.

“Of course.” I play it off. “You won’t even use me.” I shoot him a half-smile, but the taste in my mouth turns sour. I’m not a flirty, ‘keep things close to my chest’ girl, I’m the ‘wear my heart on my sleeve’ one, no matter how bad it hurt me in the past.

“What does that mean?” He looks taken aback, almost hurt.

“Nothing, forget I said anything.” I don’t want to talk about it, and Ireallydon’t want to talk about it on the dance floor of my ex’s wedding.

He doesn’t take the hint. Rather, he brings his mouth to my neck, inhaling my scent before whispering so only I can hear.

“If you think for a second that the image of me taking this fucking dress off you hasn’t been playing in my mind the whole night, you’re gravely mistaken. But it’s not a good idea.” He clenches his jaw, like the thought of staying away is painful.

“Oh,” I say, because what else is there to say? He’s right. My ego’s hurt, I’m probably a little drunk and a lot emotional. It’s not a good time to be making rash decisions. Especially ones that are so unlike me.

He doesn’t answer. We sway some more until fatigue sets in. These heels aren’t my friends and with all the stress tonight, I’m drained.

“Can we go?” I ask quietly.

“Come on.”

On our way out of the ballroom, we run into Bryce again.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks.

Lennox pulls me to him. “Yup, I think I’ve been patient enough tonight.” His gaze never leaves mine, not sparing a glance at Bryce.

“Sure,” Bryce stammers, obviously uncomfortable.

I’d probably chuckle if my body wasn’t too focused on the way Lennox’s body is pressed to mine. He lifts a finger and traces it down my cheek.

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