“Why are you asking me?”
“I’ll leave it in the bathroom then,” he says, and starts to leave.
I grab the top of his shoulder. “Put it in my room.” I doubt she’ll stay in the room with me but at least holding her things hostage will give me another opportunity to speak with her.
He nods then makes his way back over to Lauren, pulling her away from her conversation with Sydney and leading her upstairs.
“How long did it take you before you were okay with your sister dating your best friend?” I ask Enzo as he watches Lauren and Hart leave the party with a trace of a smile on his face.
“I think deep down I was always going to be okay with their relationship. I just had to wrap my head around the idea of her being with anyone in general. Especially someone I’ve known my whole life. He’s my best friend for a reason. He’sa good guy. I trust him with my life and with my sister. There isn’t anyone who would love her harder than him.”
This is the same logic I thought Nash would apply to me and Sydney but he never has. I’ve received nothing but threats and warnings. He should know I would never hurt Sydney.Not again.
I never would have hurt her in the first place if it wasn’t for Nash. I put distance between the two of us for him. I’ve been paying the price ever since. If I had it my way, I would have been her boyfriend the moment I figured out I liked girls. And not just any girls, but the moment I knew I liked her.
I’ll never forget the moment it happened either. I took a baseball to the head for it. She was in the stands watching me and Nash play our first game of the fall season.
The team was out on the field warming up. I took my eye off the pitcher for a second and locked eyes with Sydney. She had her hair in braids back then and wore a bright pink sundress. It wasn’t the first time I noticed her curves, but her dress didn’t hide anything.
It was her smile that made me forget where I was. She smiled at me like I hung the moon. Like I was the only guy she sees. I was busy trying to figure out how I was going to keep my promise to Nash when a baseball almost knocked me unconscious.
“How do you think Nash would react if one of his friends finally said fuck it and started pursuing Sydney?”
He shifts in place. His eyes dart around the room from Nash to Sydney and back to me. “Any of his friends or you?”
“Does it make a difference?”
“Yes. It does.”
I shouldn’t be surprised by his answer but a new layer of irritation begins to fester under the surface.
“Hey, you two!” Nash shouts from his side of the table. “Stop looking so serious. This is supposed to be a party.” He holds up his drink in our direction.
“I don’t think they know how to loosen up and have a good time,” Sydney taunts us from across the table.
“Is that so? What should we be doing? We’re drinking, socializing. I even played one of your outdoor games,” Enzo replies.
“Dancing. What’s a party without dancing?” Her lips twist into an evil smirk.
“Enzo doesn’t dance,” Marco says from where he’s standing by Nash.
“Everyone dances,” she says, keeping her eyes on us.
“Not me. That’s where I draw the line.” Enzo takes a long pull from his beer.
“Koa?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “What about you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance once in all the years I’ve known you.”
I drain the rest of my beer and silently leave the circle we’ve formed around the dining table. I toss my empty bottle in the trash can while keeping my eyes on Sydney.
“I guess that’s a no for Mahina too,” Joe quips before taking a sip of his drink.
I ignore everyone as I round the table. Including the death stare from Nash. Sydney yelps when I grab her hand and pull her into my chest.
“Maybe you never saw me dance because the person I wanted to dance with wasn’t available,” I whisper close to her ear. “Dance with me now.” I walk away, leaving the decision in her hands.
Standing in the middle of the crowded living room, I wait for her to make her choice. Is she going to break through the invisible barriers we've put on our relationship or is she going to let me walk away?
She leans into Joe and his arm goes around her waist. My hand clenches into a fist. Whatever she says has him smiling which pisses me off even more. Almost as if she’s doing this to drive home the point I don’t dance, not that she really wants to dance with me. She has no desire to be close to me while I’m dying to have her in my arms.