Page 29 of Out of the Dark

I nod in confirmation, and the four of us head to the kitchen where the men are standing around chatting. Mark raises his eyebrows at me as I pour myself another glass of champagne, and I flash him a smile.

The group disperses slowly, and I take my spot again at Mark’s side.

"Have a nice conversation?" he asks.

"Yep. I like them. They’re a lot of fun to talk to." I know he’s fishing for information on what we talked about, but I’mnot about to volunteer it. I feel like an insider now, recognizing little signs I wouldn’t have noticed before. It suddenly occurs to me that Mark had walked away right as Sarah had mentioned Dani’s collar, and it all clicks into place.

He was nervous that they were discussing their "lifestyle" with me present. But if that were the case, he would have tried to coax me away instead of walking away himself. Sohewas the uncomfortable one, for whatever reason. Hmm…

Mark takes a sip of his drink but still doesn’t make eye contact as I stare up at him from his side. "What did you guys talk about?" he asks.

I have two options here. I can either continue being vague, or I can throw caution to the wind and risk making him uncomfortable. The old me would have stayed quiet and awkwardly changed the subject, but the new me feels a surge of bravery. Or maybe it’s the champagne.

"They told me about the sex club."

Mark chokes on his drink, coughing and sputtering, and looks into my eyes for the first time during this conversation. I crack up at his reaction.

He studies me for a moment before asking, "And how did you feel about that?"

"It’s… interesting. I never would have thought there’d be so much to learn about life and relationships like this. But I suppose I’m always wanting to know more about everything. You told me it was okay to be curious and ask questions, so that’s exactly what I did."

Blowing out a slow breath, Mark closes his eyes for a few seconds too long. "Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not." And with that, I walk out of the kitchen and into the living room.

I’ve managed to pace myself with drinking tonight, but Mark seems to have had one too many. He’s not super drunk as far as I can tell, but he’s let his guard down. I’ve caught him staring at me quite a few times with an intensity that I’m not used to, one that makes every nerve in my body come to life. He seems conflicted about something, though it’s difficult to figure out exactly what.

As the clock ticking down on the television screen approaches midnight, we all congregate in the living room with the sound of the TV host filling the room over excited conversation. An electric energy buzzes through my body as the clock crosses the one-minute mark and the seconds count down to the new year.

I know in my heart that this will be a year of firsts, a year of new beginnings, and a year of self-discovery. Change is in the air, and I can feel it with every fiber of my being. It’s exhilarating. I know that the new year is realistically just another day, but something about it makes everything feel possible. Like I have a blank slate and every opportunity laid out in front of me.

Maybe it’s silly, but I’ve never had this much hope for my future before, and that alone makes today significant.

Mark’s presence is a familiar comfort next to me as we all count down.

"Five, four, three, two, one!" Cheers erupt around the room, and all the couples turn to kiss each other with beaming smiles.

I glance up at Mark without even thinking about what I’m doing, and he wraps an arm around my shoulders and squeezes me into his side in a half-hug.

"I’m glad you’re here," he murmurs, his touch lingering for a few seconds before he finally lets go.

His words send a spark of happiness through me, but my stomach sinks with disappointment at the same time. I’m not sure why. Was I really expecting him to kiss me? Sure, we’ve gotten closer over the past couple weeks, but nowhere nearthatlevel of closeness.

Okay, maybe I have a tiny crush on him, but it’s clear that it’s not reciprocated. I’m too young for him, too inexperienced, and probably not his type anyway. But the more time I’ve spent with him these past few weeks, the more interested in him I’ve become. He’s not what he seems to be, and it makes me want to dig further to see what lies beneath the surface.

Maybe I thought the looks he’s been giving me tonight were something other than what they really are. But he said he’s happy I’m here, which is at leastsomething. So what if he’s not interested in me like that? At least I have a good friend by my side.

The car ride home is thick with tension. I’m not sure if I’m just imagining it, but Mark is unusually quiet again, though that could be due to tiredness considering it’s almost two in the morning. He may be thinking the same thing about me—I’m not a particularly talkative person on the best days, but I’m at a loss for words right now. It was a fun night, but exhaustion is weighing on me along with the constant replays of tonight flashing in my head.

His lingering looks throughout the evening. The way his arm felt around me, even if it was just a friendly hug. How small and safe I felt next to him. The way I secretly wish he would have kissed me.

How silly of me.

Even though we’re on opposite sides of the car, the space feels too small. Mark takes up most of his half of the backseatwhile I’m huddled into the door on my side and staring out the window. So when we finally arrive at Mark’s building, I breathe a sigh of relief as I step outside and watch my breath come out as a thick cloud in the freezing night air.

My relief is short-lived when we’re stuck together in a small space yet again during the elevator ride to the top of the building. Every enclosed space with him feels too small now, too intimate, even though we’ve taken this exact elevator ride together multiple times now. There’s something in the air tonight that makes it feel… different.

In a good way or a bad one, I’m not quite sure. On one hand, I’m still riding the high of hope for the future, the way bringing in a new year with new friends has lit a fire inside me. On the other hand, that small thread of disappointment from wanting someone and him not wanting me back has refused to stop tugging at my heart. But I decide I’m not going to let that outweigh my happiness for the night.

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