Page 33 of What Comes After

Chapter Nine

Peyton

The reception dinnergoes by in a blur. One minute we’re walking into the hall, followed by Andrew and Sam who are introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Collins. The next toasts are being made and the cake is cut.

I’ve been kind of dreading this part of the night all day. The part where I have to stand up in front of a room full of people and dance with Abel. I know there’s going to be fourteen other people on the floor with us, but it does nothing to quell the swirl of nervousness in my stomach.

I try to tell myself it’s only the dancing in front of people part I’m nervous about, but if I’m being honest with myself it also has to do with who I’ll be dancing with.

It’s fruitless to pretend like I’m not incredibly attracted to Abel. You’d have to be blind not to be. But I can’t approach Abel the way I would any other guy, because he’s not like any other guy.

I can’t just say ‘hey, I’m attracted to you’ or even flirt with him the way I would normally do with a guy I’m interested in. Not knowing what I know. Even if he is interested in me, and this chemistry between us actually blossoms into something, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at him and feel fully content. Not when I know I was the second choice.

Maybe that seems selfish, but I want that for myself. I want to be the one that hangs the moon and the stars. The one a person’s world revolves around, not living in the shadow of his dead wife.

The problem is, if Abel were to express interest in me, I don’t think I could turn him away, no matter how much I know I should. I’m too drawn to him. I can’t help it. Every time I look at him, I get this weird nervous swirl in my stomach and I feel like my heart has been injected with a shot of adrenaline. There’s this incredible chemistry between us. Almost like the air zings whenever we’re close.

I’ve never felt that kind of connection with anyone before, let alone a person I barely know. And as much as it confuses me, it excites me just the same.

I’m not an overly confident person in my everyday life. Where I am comfortable in my own skin, and happy with who I am, I’ll never be one to assume a guy likes me.

But with Abel, despite everything I know, when he looks at me, I swear he feels it too.

I take a sip of champagne, my gaze sliding to Abel right as he stands. It takes me a moment to realize that everyone at the wedding party table is standing, except me.

Scrambling to my feet, I look over at Henna who gives me a confused look.

“You okay?” she whispers.

I nod, finishing off the rest of my champagne in one long gulp before turning to follow her and the other bridesmaids to the dance floor.

I feel Abel next to me before I even turn, like his presence bears this weight that I can physically feel in the air as it settles around me.

It’s not long before I’m forced to face him, and when I do a familiar quiver runs through my chest.

Why does he have to be so handsome?

“So, we meet again.” He smiles down at me, our height difference not as pronounced with my four-inch heels in play.

“So, we do.” I force myself to relax a little as I slide one hand into his and the other on his shoulder, doing my best to avoid his gaze.

Seconds pass beforeAt Lastby Etta James fills the space and we slowly begin to move. Abel rests his face against the side of my head, and I shudder at his nearness.

“Leave it to my brother and his wife to pick possibly the most overplayed wedding song in the world for us to dance to,” he whispers into my ear.

I smile and nod, trying to ignore the way my skin erupts in goosebumps.

Closing my eyes, I focus on my breathing, on the sound of the music, on making sure my feet move when they’re supposed to. Anything I can to take the focus away from how it feels to be pressed up against Abel. From his hand on my back, his thumb tracing lazy circles against my spine, something I’m not sure he even realizes he’s doing.

Each second ticks by so slowly, like time has slowed down around us. I was so nervous about dancing in front of everyone, but with Abel it’s like there isn’t a single other person in the room. It’s just me and him and the steady strum of our hearts that seem to be beating in time.

When the music stops, Abel doesn’t release me right away. It’s like he also drifted off somewhere else and has lost himself to the moment.

I’m the first to shift, pulling back slightly so that our faces are a few inches apart.

A flash of sadness washes over his face and I swear it hits me straight in the stomach. It takes a second for me to realize what that means.

When I closed my eyes all I felt was him, but it wasn’t me he was feeling at all. I can read his emotion in every line of his beautiful face. When he’d pulled back, he wanted to seeher, not me.

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