Page 109 of The Love of My Next Life
“Stepbrother,” I clarify, then wander off to find the refreshment table.
The music is trash. The food is decent. The company could be worse, so I try not to complain. I keep scanning the ballroom for Sam, but I haven’t found her. I thought she’d be here with Julian, but maybe she bailed.
I’m popping another bacon wrapped hors d'oeuvre into my mouth when Eric appears in front of me.
“Lennon,” he says with a genuine smile, then holds out his hand. “Would you like to dance?”
I blink, then hold up my finger. I finish chewing and swallow, then wipe my mouth with a napkin. He stands and waits patiently, smiling with his dimples on display the whole time.
I drop the napkin in the nearby trashcan, then turn to face him. I smile.
“I’d love to dance,” I lie, and put my hand in his.
He leads me to the dance floor, spinning me once before placing his hands on my waist and pulling me close. I loop my arms around his neck and sway with him to some 2000s pop ballad, then move seamlessly into bouncing up and down with our hands in the air when the DJ moves to a popular hip-hop track.
I stay on the dance floor with Eric for song after song, alternating between slow songs and fast ones, and I start to have fun. Soon, Claire and Josh join us, and we’re dancing in one big circle, singing along to the songs we know and twirling around with our classmates. I’m tipsy and I’m a bit sweaty, but I’m smiling more now than I have in months.
For a moment, I can pretend everything is fine, that my heart isn’t aching, and that maybe there is hope for healing.
The track changes, and I move toward Eric for the slow song, but a hand comes down on his shoulder before I can loop my arms around his neck.
“Mind if I cut in, man?” Macon asks Eric, and my jaw drops.
Eric looks from Macon to me and back. He narrows his eyes and I watch as a muscle in his jaw pops. His chest puffs out, but before anything else can happen, I place my arm on his bicep.
“It’s okay,” I say to Eric. He hesitates, then nods and steps away, letting Macon fill the empty space in front of me. Macon winks, then grabs my arms and puts them on his shoulders before wrapping his hands around my hips.
He looks beautiful, and I hate it. His curls are slicked back, and his navy-blue suit almost perfectly matches my dress. His shirt is unbuttoned at the collar and he’s not wearing a tie, which somehow makes him sexier.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he pulls me close. I glance over his shoulder to find Claire scowling at us. “People can see this, you know.”
He rolls his eyes, the gesture so playful that my heart skips.
“I didn’t dance with you at the wedding,” he says. “I’m fixing that mistake now.”
I open my mouth to make a sassy remark, but the next song starts to play, and I tip my head back and laugh at the irony.
“What?” he says with a smirk, swaying me back and forth and turning us in a slow circle. “You don’t like Aerosmith?”
I snort.
“I just find it hilarious that of all the songs for you to decide to dance with me, it has to be theArmageddontheme song.” I shake my head and smile. “If that’s not foreboding, I don’t know what is.”
His smirk grows. He takes my hand and twirls me before pulling me back to his chest and dropping his forehead to mine.
“That movie has a happy ending,” he says, and his warm breath tickles my cheeks.
“Not until after a ton of heartbreak and bloodshed,” I retort.
His lips twitch, and he tightens his grip on my hips.
“Isn’t that how all the best love stories play out? It’s not love if it doesn’t hurt first.”
“I don’t know if that’s true,” I whisper, then lie my head on his chest. I listen to his heartbeat and focus on the way his hands feel on my body.
I don’t know if that’s true at all.
When the song ends, neither of us move. Long seconds bleed into the next song, and when I finally try to pull away, he tugs me back.
