Page 3 of Our Long Days
His eyes narrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Someone has to keep you in check. The last party we both attended, you ended up skinny dipping in the bay.”
My mouth flattens, mortified he remembers that. “Doesn’t sound like me.”
“Mm-hmm,” he mumbles. “You were in a world of your own over there. Want to share?”
I wasthinking how I’m sure your thighs could crack me like a watermelon and I’d thoroughly enjoy it.
My gaze drops to my feet, admiring the worn toe of my sneakers. Knowing he was watching me during an extensional crisis is not my finest moment—nor was the skinny dipping.
“Oh, you know…” My head whips up when Dex shifts on his feet.
I tilt my head a fraction, finding his hearing aid fitted in his left ear. Dex has been hard of hearing since he was a teenager. Having known him my entire life, ensuring he can see my lips and speaking clearly is second nature.
“I was thinking about the fact we’re the only single people left.” A lie, but it’s the first thing to pop into my head. I gesture to where Booth and Aly are trying their hardest not to acknowledge each other’s existence. “Even he’s ten steps away from falling in love.”
Tonguing his cheek, he chuckles. “You’re young.”
“I’m notthatyoung. I have boobs now.”
Blink and you’d miss it. His eyes flare for a nanosecond, sweeping down my body before they snap back up to my face. Dex isn’t unfamiliar with my bold remarks, and it makes me giddy that after almost two years out of the country, they still have the same effect.
I go to move the conversation on when we’re joined by my middle brother, Graham, and his girlfriend, Quinn. Booth, Aly, and Harriet, Johanna’s younger sister, soon join.
More drinks are poured, we dance, chat, and then midnight arrives. Dex and I stand awkwardly among the couples, and every so often, someone bumps into us, causing our shoulders to knock.
It’s torture.
“Oh! Everyone!” Quinn shouts over the music excitedly. “Midnight strikes in two minutes. Grab your partners.”
Booth not so discreetly eyes Aly. Graham wraps Quinn up in a bear hug. Even Patrick and Jo, who are still behind the bar, shuffle in closer, ready to lock lips.
A thick bicep brushes my arm, covered in a blue and green flannel shirt. My body heats. Blame the tequila.
Discomfort ripples from him. Quinn clocks our rigid postures and snickers.
“Hey, I didn’t say you had to kiss.” Her lips quiver, fighting back a smile. “Or do.”
Nervous laughter bubbles out of me while Dex scrubs a hand across his buzz cut, two crimson spots staining his cheeks.
Thankfully, we’re spared any further embarrassment when the room counts down from ten.
Being kissed at midnight is cliché anyway.
When was I last kissed?
Is Dex a good kisser?
Is it okay to think about kissing my brother’s best friend?
I’m so caught up in my internal monologue, my surroundings are forgotten, and the bellowing cheers fade into the background. It’s the featherlight touch above the waistband of my leather skirt that pulls me back to the present, solid and warm.
A maelstrom of emotions barrages me at Dex’s proximity.
It’s subtle. Hidden in the dark. The motive unclear and confusing.
When I glance up at him from under my lashes, he smiles, toasting our friends, oblivious to the full-body tremble quaking from my head to my toes.
When his gaze meets mine, silver flames swallow the cool gray.
