“You look beautiful, Squirrel.”
Chin to my shoulder, I check the vicinity for Addy. Confident she’s twisted up with Andrew and out of the vicinity to hear me.
“I feel naked.”
He takes a tiny step back, his eyes turning greedy, taking in every inch of the silk touching my skin. His lips part as he goes to speak, but he thinks better of it. His mouth closes, and he steps back into my body.
“Alex is a dick.”
I push him. “Funny. He said the same about you.”
He shrugs.
“I—”
“Can we not talk?” he whispers against my ear. “Just for this song. I just want a moment of light with you. One without expectation or guilt or . . . let’s just be us.”
Resting my cheek on his chest, I nod. “Okay.”
It’s easy to forget where we are in this intimate moment. Tangled up in one another, the soft melody of a song dedicated to love wrapping us in its own embrace. The scars we’ve nursed over the years forgotten, our hearts finding synchronization, our guards torn down, leaving us at the mercy of our feelings.
I can hear the beat of his heart against my ear. The prominent strum like a whisper of my name, over and over again.
Hen-ley.
Hen-ley.
I close my eyes, gifting myself this moment. This magical blink of time when the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
I don’t let myself panic at the touch of his fingers on the inner line of my dress, the rough skin of his fingers skating across my lower back in time with the music.
I don’t let myself feel guilty for wanting that touch.
I don’t let myself worry about the fact that if he kissed me right here, on the dance floor, in front of our partners, I wouldn’t hesitate to kiss him back.
His nose finds its way to my hair, inhaling deeply. “I love that you still smell like the earth.”
I look up at him, resting my chin on his chest to anchor our eyes.
“When we fight, our arguments seem so important. Then time passes, and I see you, and I don’t even remember why we stopped talking.”
The hand wrapped around mine squeezes roughly. “Same shit. Us freaking out at crossing lines and blurring boundaries.”
I swallow. “Kinda like now.”
Our entwined hands move in, his thumb brushing against my chin. He nods. “Kinda like now. I just can’t stop myself.”
I’m obviously no better. I wouldn’t be tangled up in him the way I am if I were.
“Do you love her?”
His head shakes. “No. Not at all. Not with the ferocity I do you.”
I blink, unable to hide the tears filling my eyes.
“You?”
My chin wobbles. “No.”
I take a breath. “Horrible timing as always. But—”
“This can’t start now,” he says. “You and I. If that’s what you were gonna suggest. It’s. . . complicated. Now just isn’t right.”
I’m not quick enough to score the hurt on my face.
“I want you. I just. . .”
I step back, unable to bear the burn of his rejection.
“Maybe wanna stop eye-fucking on the dance floor, cheaters.” Evelyn pushes past me, and I glance up, my eyes falling directly into the reasonable anger of my boyfriend.
Brooks turns at the same time, and Grace’s back is turned, her head dipped low.
Alex turns on his heel, a disgusted shake of his head the last thing he offers me before storming from the party.
“Alex!” I call out.
Brooks grabs my arm, halting my movement.
I yank it back, following Alex’s exit on hurried heels.
“Alex!” I call to him again as his retreating back moves through the foyer of the hotel.
He whirls on me. “What the fuck was that?”
“What?” I balk.
“Him.” He gestures toward the ballroom. “Your best friend. Brooks. Have the two of you been anything more?”
I can’t bring myself to lie, but I don’t know what I would classify us as, so I choose my silence.
“Fuck. Blondie in there told me you cheated with him a few years back.”
I cross my arms over my chest defensively. “That was a long time ago. We were young—”
“It’s true.” His head tips back, a frustrated growl catching the attention of people walking past. “Fuck, Henley. You invited me to a wedding you knew your fuck buddy was going to be at? What kind of fucked-up shit is that?”
“He’s my best friend, not my. . .” I can’t bring myself to call Brooks my fuck buddy to devalue him that way.
“You were all but salivating over one another on the dance floor in there. It wasn’t fucking, Henley. You were loving one another. In front of me,” he roars.
“Alex.” I reach out to touch him, but he yanks his arm away from me.
“Do you love him?”
I bite my tongue, tasting the warm, metallic tang of my own blood in my mouth.
“Tell me I’m wrong, and we’ll go back in there,” he commands. “Tell me you’re not in love with your best friend,” he says the words like they’re dirty, like they’re tainted.
“I . . . It’s not. . . You can’t. . .”
“Fucking hell.” He laughs humorlessly. “You’re a piece of work, Henley. Don’t call me again.”
Hand covering my mouth, I watch him leave, begging myself to chase him down to tell him what he wants to hear, what he needs to stay, but I can’t get my feet to move. As the door opens and he disappears into the night, I can only find relief flooding my body.
Glancing back at the ballroom, I can’t bring myself to walk back inside. I glance around the opulent space, choosing to move to the hotel bar instead.
Three glasses of champagne later, I wobble onto my feet. My head feels light. It buzzes with pain and self-loathing and a little bit of numbness and just a dash of zero fuckery.
My boyfriend just broke up with me.
I bark out a laugh.
My boyfriend just broke up with me at
