Page 15 of The Confidant
“They stopped spending time together, and my mom started working more because they stopped liking each other,” I corrected him.
Not that it mattered really. My parents’ divorce had happened when I was seven. Which had sucked at first, of course. It felt like my whole world was falling apart when it happened.
But as the years went by and my dad found Megan, his new wife, and my mom fell in love with her personal assistant, Rodney, I got used to the fact that my parents could love other people and still love me.
“Plus,” I said, typing in a password for my new email since the username was, in fact, still available, “it’s not like my dad is going to change his mind about me having a boyfriend anytime soon. So my workaholic gene won’t be interfering there, anyway.”
“So you might as well run with this,” Hunter finished my thought for me.
“Yep.” I pressed the blue sign-up button at the bottom. Within a few seconds, the screen opened up to a page that said, “Welcome to AwesomeMail!”
“Well, if this keeps you distracted from falling for Xander at the Valentine’s dance, then I guess it would be in my best interest to tell you to run with this.”
My heart stuttered as his words hit me. When I flicked my gaze to his face to see if I’d heard him right, he was staring at me with an intensity that made my insides melt.
“You don’t want me to have fun with Xander?” I asked, needing to hear him say it. Even though we’d spent months hinting that our feelings were still there, just waiting on the sidelines until at a time when we could be open with them, he’d never actually voiced something like this before.
He glanced around furtively, as if worried that my dad had paid spies watching our every move. Then he leaned next to my ear and mumbled, “If I have my way, your favorite part of the night will be when I steal a dance with you.”
So he was already planning to steal a dance with me?
“You don’t think Addison will mind?” I asked in a breathy voice, reminding him that he wasn’t the only one with a date that night.
He lifted a shoulder. “She’s a nice girl, so of course I’ll be a gentleman. But it’s only natural to want to dance with the prettiest girl in the room.”
I sat there dumbly for a moment, my mind racing a hundred miles a minute as I processed his words and their meaning.
He wanted to dance with me.
And he still thought I was pretty. He was still attracted to me that way.
Was this his way of reminding me that it still wasn’t over then? That if we didn’t have the threat of my dad taking me out of the school hanging over our heads, he might follow me into the journalism room right now, using the key Mrs. Donlan had given me, so he could press me against the wall and we could make up for months of lost time?
My mind buzzed, and I felt breathless just thinking about the possibility of being in his arms again after months and months of wanting and craving and pining and going crazy.
I looked back at him, my eyes searching his for all the hidden meanings behind his words.
It would be so easy to just let myself forget the rules and do what my heart wanted me to do.
To throw caution to the wind and cross the line I’d been hovering over for months—just waiting for the tiniest gust of wind to push me over and risk having to go back home and finishing my senior year online.
But since I couldn’t do that, I just said, “Looks like there’s a reason to look forward to the Valentine's dance after all.”
“Looks like there is,” he said in a low voice that had my gaze glued to his lips. I wanted to kiss those lips so badly.
Just for a second.
I watched the corner of his mouth quirk up into the smile he always got when he caught me checking him out.
After looking me up and down in a way that made me feel hot, he said, “Now you better hurry and make your little announcement in the gazette aboutDear Eliza’sfuture column, so we still have time for an episode ofThe Officebefore curfew.”
“Y-you’re right.” I shook my head, needing to dispel the fog creeping in over my mind. Monday nights were the only nights we got to watch our show together since we had basketball games the other weeknights and hung out with the rest of our friends on the weekends. “I’ll do that now.”
“Good. I’ll just take my stuff to my room and change into my pajamas.”
“See you in a few minutes,” I said.
I watched him head toward the library exit, allowing myself a moment to admire the confident way he walked. Once he was out of view, I forced myself to open my browser and sign into the gazette’s website.
