Page 22 of Second Chance Ex
“I’m sure he’s just been held up,” Madison tries, offering a hopeful smile. “I bet he comes straight to the hotel.”
I nod. She’s right. Joey isn’t going to stand me up, not on my prom night. My smile feels slightly more genuine, but then I glance over Madison’s shoulder and I catch something in Ryan’s eyes, something that makes my stomach knot, something he quickly tries to replace with an easy smile. But before I can question him on the fleeting look in his eyes, my mother starts to corral us for a group photo.
I make sure to smile as best as I can, posing and giggling with my best friend, no doubt looking like the definition of a third-wheel, and all the while I’m riddled by an unsettling feeling of foreboding that looms over me like a dark cloud. And I don’t know why, call it women’s intuition or whatever, but something tells me my fairytale prom night isn’t going to end up the way I’d planned.
Well,prom is officially a bust. Don’t get me wrong, the prom committee have outdone themselves. The hotel ballroom is stunning; sheer drapes fall from the ceiling, a million twinkling fairy lights sparkle like stars against a midnight sky, a smoke machine providing wisps of white mist to float up from the floor like a dream swirling between loved-up couples swaying to the tune of a ballad playing throughout. It’s like a fairytale. One I feel totally disconnected from as I sit on my own, downing my second glass of obviously spiked punch in the hope that the cheap vodka will help numb my pain.
Joeystillhasn’t returned my calls. And I haven’t bothered trying him again; which I promise isn’t out of spite, regardless how angry the alcohol is making me. It’s a defense mechanism, because I know something is wrong, and whatever it is, is going to hurt like hell when I find out.
“Hey, Prue.”
I start, turning to find Ryan appear behind me, holding two glasses of punch.
“Hey, Ry.” I manage a smile. “Where’s Maddy?”
He lifts his chin in the direction of the bathrooms. “Fixing her lipstick.”
Ryan takes the seat next to me, and while he doesn’t say anything, I know he’s searching for the words, to finally tell me what he’s been trying to tell me all night. My stomach knots, but I remain passive, pretending not to pay him any mind as I stare out over the dancefloor.
“Have you heard from him?” he finally asks.
I shake my head, gaze still set at nothing in particular on the dance floor.
Ryan exhales a heavy breath, and I notice him shift in his chair from my periphery. I can almost feel the intensity of his gaze as it settles on me. And then, finally, he seems to find the courage he needs to tell me whatever it is he’s been keeping from me.
“I need to tell you something,” Ryan begins, his deep voice timid, cautious.
My gaze meets his, but then I notice a flash of something out the corner of my eye. And I don’t know how or why, immediately I just know.
“Joey.” My voice is a low whisper, lost to the sound of the song as I stand, my eyes immediately meeting Joey’s across the crowded ballroom.
And it’s suddenly as if all my worries, my doubts and my fears evaporate into thin air just from the sight of him, from his all-consuming presence that I can feel even from the other side of the cavernous room. The Joey effect.
I start toward him, snaking my way through the throng, taking him in. He looks a little disheveled, dressed in his tux sans tie, the white shirt unbuttoned at the neck and left hanging untucked from his trousers. His hair is chaotic, sticking up in almost every direction.His eyes are at half-mast, like he hasn’t slept in two days. But it’s his smile—that dreamy smile—that still manages to take my breath away.
“Hey, baby,” his voice is a low, sexy rumble.
He pulls me close, his lips pressed against the shell of my ear before pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the soft and sensitive skin just below the lobe.His big hand grips my waist just holding me there so close for a long moment, flush against him as he breathes me in. I’m forced to grip his arms as a shiver runs through me, but as I pull back meeting his gaze, it’s then I remember I’m angry.
“Where have you been?” I look between his eyes, searching for answers.
I notice his Adam’s apple bob with a hard swallow, and just when I think he’s about to say something, he stops, his lips pressing together in a firm line as his intense gaze fixes on something behind me. I turn my head, following the direction of his stare, and my heart dips in my chest at the sight of Ryan watching us from across the dancefloor, a telling look in his eyes.
I turn back to Joey, my brows knitting together. “Joey, what’s going on?”
His shoulders rise and fall with a big breath, his eyes meeting mine once again. But when they do, there’s something else there, something that makes me realize I’d been right; there is something wrong, and I’m about to hurt like hell.
The Ivy Hotelis alive with Rosewood High seniors milling about in the lobby, outside at the valet, everysingle one of them enviably happier than me. They’re celebrating, as they should. This is their prom.Myprom. They’re on the precipice of the next phase of their lives.Mylife. But out here, I’m not celebrating. I’m not joyous. I’m cold and still, staring at Joey, meeting his glassy eyes as he looks at me, waiting for me to respond.
But how can I respond? What can I possibly say in response to what he’s just told me? Not only has he been lying to me; he’s just broken my heart.
“Baby,” Joey whispers, his voice broken. He reaches out, gently grabbing my hand. “Please say something.”
I shake my head. I can’t talk to him right now. I’m still trying to process what he’s just told me.
“So, you were late to my prom because yourflightfromColumbuswas delayed,” I finally say, working through it out loud, my brow furrowed with confusion.
He presses his lips together and nods once.
