Page 57 of The Accidental Text

We move around in a circle; I let Chase guide me, feeling something like defeat settle over me.

I make eye contact with Chelsea, who’s dancing not far from me, her arms wrapped around Mark. She gives me bright, questioning eyes. Insinuating eyes. I scrunch my face at her. My younger sister way of telling her to bug off. She won’t, though. I will be questioned about this later.

“Whatever,” I say to Chase, after nudging him so he turns us and I’m no longer facing my sister. “It’s fine.”

“Is it?”

“I mean, it felt like we had a moment.”

“It looked like you had one,” Chase says. “I wasn’t creeping … just making sure I did my job.”

I sigh. “This is not how I saw this night going.”

“Me either. I mean, I was going to have crappy delivery pizza and watch a violent movie, and now I’m in a suit, dancing with a pretty woman.”

I pull my head back so I can see his face again. He smiles at me.

“Sorry to waste your night.”

His brow instantly furrows. “Totally not a waste,” he says. “I’m having a great time.”

“Well, you do have some mad wingman skills.”

“Sorry it wasn’t enough,” he says as he puts his cheek close to mine again. “We can try another strategy?”

I look over toward the bar and see Natasha and Dawson, drinks in hand. Natasha has her arm weaved through his and they’re standing close to each other. She whispers something in his ear, and he laughs.

“No,” I say to Chase as the song ends. I pull away and hold him by the lapels of his suit jacket. “You’re released from your duties.”

A heavy bass rhythm that I can feel in my throat starts up, and I don’t much feel like dancing to anything upbeat. Only sad, sappy songs for this gal. Perhaps the DJ could play “Everybody Hurts” by R.E.M. as I walk away with my head hanging. It feels like a proper soundtrack to my life.

I lead Chase off the dance floor. “Wanna grab a drink and go sit in the Lambo?” I say when we’ve gotten far enough away from the dance floor that we no longer have to scream or be cheek to cheek to communicate. Not that I minded being cheek to cheek with Chase. It was … comfortable.

Chase stops in his tracks and I turn to see him there with big wide eyes that remind me of the heart eyes emoji face.

He clears his throat and sniffs, now taking on an extra cool demeanor to counter the drooling he almost did. “You mean that boring car over there in the corner that Ihave notbeen looking at or dreaming about all night? Nah, I’m good.”

I give him a sardonic smile. “Oh, okay, so you don’t want to see it? That works.”

“I mean”—Chase tilts his head to the side—“it’s not a big deal, of course. But youdidsay we could, and Ididget you on the dance floor with Dawson. I can’t help that Fluffy Barbie showed up.”

I laugh. That’s a fantastic way to describe Natasha. I might steal that. “It’s true, you did your job.”

I grab him by the hand and drag him toward the bar, which is thankfully now free of Dawson and Natasha. We grab drinks—this time mine has alcohol in it—and we walk to the other side of the tent, over to my dad’s fourth child.

Chase blows out a breath, his cheeks popping out as he does. There’s almost a reverence about him as we approach the car.

Chase gets in the driver’s side, and before I get into the passenger side, I open up the door, lean inside, and put my drink in the cup holder. I know from experience that it takes a lot of ab and thigh muscle to get into this low-riding car without flashing anyone. Especially in this tight dress and heels. It would have been helpful if Hannah and I had kept up the workout routine that we started at the beginning of the year. It only lasted a week.

After some maneuvering, I shut the door on my side and turn on the specialty LED cab lights my dad had installed. With one little click, blue lighting appears, giving the space a sort of otherworldly hue.

“Wow,” Chase says, awestruck.

I feel cocooned in here, with all the noise of the party now dampened.

“Yep,” I say.

“This is … amazing,” he says almost reverently. He flicks open the cover of the start button in the middle console, his expression reminding me of my niece Alice when she first found her feet.

---