Page 38 of Love and Other Champagne Problems

“Given what?” I came around to his side. “Given that I probably haven’t worked a day in my life?”

“I wasn’t going to say it like that.”

It was true, though, at least not in the way these servers worked. The staff at the country club was hard-working, dedicated, and that was one of the biggest things I’d noticed over the years. “I got used to watching and learning,” I told him. “You do a lot of observing at these parties when no one comes up to talk to you.”

Sumner watched me with a muted expression. He lowered the tray so it wasn’t between us anymore.

“I didn’t say that so you would pity me,” I said when he remained wordless, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.

“I’m not.”

“Tell that to your face.”

He tilted his head to the side. “What about yours?”

To that, I simply raised an eyebrow.

“Why don’t you smile more?” And then he quickly shook his head. “Don’t give me that look. I’m nottellingyou to smile more. I’m asking why you don’t. There are times I can actuallyseeyou keep yourself from smiling. Why do you do that?”

He was like me, it seemed. Didn’t miss anything. “You look too close.”

“I like looking close. I like it when you smile.”

He said it too factually for it to sound flirty, but I still donned a teasing expression. “Am I pretty when I smile?”

“You’re pretty when you don’t,” Sumner said, looking down at me. “You’re beautiful when you do.”

Again, his words sounded factual, as nonchalant as informing me that his shirt was blue, but they licked upmy skin like a flame anyway. I became all too aware of how close I stood to him, how close we stood together. We fell into a brief silence again, and this time, and I should’ve taken it as my cue to let us go back into the hall.

I didn’t move. I didn’t want to. “I’ve told you before; I’m not a happy person,” I replied in a low voice. “Not much makes me smile.”

“You’ve smiled around me. So, I’m the only person who can make you smile?”

“It appears so.”

He chuckled at that, and the sound wormed its way to the center of my chest, the vibration creating a strange pressure. I wanted to make him laugh again, but I didn’t know how. I hadn’t been trying to do so.

Footfalls on the marble floors sounded, interrupting the bubble of space the two of us had created in the hallway. They weren’t coming from in the event hall, but from the rounding south wing, most likely a late joiner to the party. I didn’t bother looking, inwardly sighing. Hopefully it wasn’t Annalise. If she came, the wedding preparations would be all anyone wanted to talk about, and that would’ve eventually led tome, and I was exhausted by the mere thought.

From my peripheral, a pair of people stepped around the corner, and that was when Sumner grabbed my upper arm and dragged me to the side. He pulled me into an alcove in the hallway, pressing me against the wall and out of sight from whoever had begun walking down it. I’d allowed myself to be pulled by his whirlwind of movement, but when we came to a halt, so did everything else.

Sumner’s eyes were wide as he focusedoff to the side, as if trying to listen for whoever had been approaching, but notfocused on me. It allowed me to focus on him.

He stood close enough that I could smell the scent of his woody cologne, close enough that I could feel the body heat radiating through his blue polo. The barest hints of sweat had gathered along his temples from a morning of bussing tables, and it tamped some of his golden hair down, turning it brown. My gaze traced down from his temple to his sharp cheekbone, from there to his jaw, from his jaw down the curve of his throat.

He met my gaze and swallowed, and my heart jumped in response. Despite the fog in my mind, I had enough wherewithal to raise an eyebrow at him.

“It’s your father,” he said, breathless as he dropped my arms. It was then that I noticed his chest rose and fell fast. “I—I’m supposed to be working, not chatting with you.”

“I take priority over you bussing tables,” I whispered back. “We don’t have to hide from anyone.”

Sumner didn’t answer, and his gaze had fallen from mine. The footfalls were louder now as they approached, but the conversation was too hushed to be able to pick out individual words.

It was ridiculous, the pair of us pressed in a hallway like we were caught doing something wrong, but still, I didn’t move. I truly didn’t understand his fear. Sure, my mother might’ve asked him to bus a table, but she also asked him to keep an eye on me—I didn’t understand why he was alarmed enough to scuttle into a corner.

Being this close had the memory of last week rising up in my mind, unbidden. We’d stood much like this when Ibatted the tray of drinks out of his hands and took his face in my hands. A week ago, I’d kissed him without thinking about it. A complete stranger. Now, the idea of doing the same—of reaching up, laying my hands on his cheeks, and bringing his mouth to mine—seemed far, far more forbidden.

It’d mean something now if I kissed him. It hadn’t meant anything before, but it would mean something now.

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