Page 91 of The Charade

He looked at the bag again. It seemed like he wanted to say something about the dress, or maybe something else about tonight, but then he gave his head a small shake and said, "I'm sure there’ll be a lot of guys dying to dance with you when they see you tonight."

And there it was.

Other guys…

As in: Not. Him.

My vision blurred as the pain of that thought rushed over me.

We were really over, weren't we?

Carter swallowed and lifted his eyes to mine. Just as I feared, there was a finality in his expression that made me feel cold all over.

This was him saying goodbye.

This was him saying we were over and any thoughts I might have entertained about us being together were just me being foolish.

When he'd avoided seeing me all week, when he barely talked to me at school, I'd known that he was probably putting distance between us because things were just awkward with us not knowing what the future held.

But maybe…maybe he just hadn't cared about me in the same way I'd cared for him after all. Maybe saying goodbye to what we'd been wasn't any harder to him than the simple flip of a switch to turn his feelings off.

Maybe once he found out that we could be related, he'd been able to think through his attraction for me and decide that none of it had mattered in the first place.

I didn't know which hurt worse: the possibility that Carter had never cared for me like I'd thought and it had all been just something I'd exaggerated in my head, or that he had cared but was able to turn it off and move on in a matter of a few days.

I'd been told growing up that love was always somewhat unrequited. That even when a couple was married, one partner's feelings were usually stronger than the other's.

But I'd thought that Carter and I could have been the exception. That maybe our love for each other was equal.

But from the stony way he was looking at me as he practically told me to dance with and date other guys, I knew I must have been wrong. Maybe I really had cared about him more than he'd cared for me.

Maybe moving on was as easy for him as turning the page in a book and starting the next chapter of his life with someone else.

And because I never wanted to be seen as the one left wanting in whatever situation I was in, I lifted my chin and straightened my shoulders like I had that day in the Italian Amigos when he'd told me that falling in love with me wouldn’t be an issue. I said, "I guess it's a good thing I brought my best dancing heels because I intend to dance with as many cute guys as I can tonight to make up for lost time."

His eyes tightened as my words hung in the air between us, and for a second, I regretted saying them. But then he said, "Then I'll try not to get in the way of all those cute guys for you tonight." He stepped to the side and gestured for me to continue down the hall to Cambrielle's room. "I hope you enjoy the party, Ava."

I nodded. "I hope you enjoy it too, Carter."

And before the tears stinging at the back of my eyes could show themselves to Carter, I walked to Cambrielle's room and fervently hoped I could make it through the night.

38

Carter

I should just leave,I told myself as I stood near the refreshment table in my family's grand ballroom in the west wing of the house, glaring at Mack and Ava as they danced to the orchestra arrangement of Justin Bieber's song “Anyone.”

When I'd told Ava that all the guys at school would be dying to dance with her tonight once they saw her in her dress, I hadn't meant for her to take that sentence as a challenge. But here we were, an hour and a half into the night and she'd already danced with at least five guys from the football team, three guys from the wrestling team, and was now currently dancing with my best friend who was the star player for the basketball team.

Did she have a thing for jocks? Or was it just tall guys with strong jawlines and big muscles?

Either she did, or all the guys who fit that description were just conveniently drawn to her.

Drawn to her tonight when I wasn't allowed to touch her.

But boy, did I want to touch her. When she'd come down the stairs with my sister and her friends at her side, I had to work hard to keep my jaw from dropping. Because even though I knew Ava was gorgeous, and she'd teased me about how amazing she was going to look in her dress tonight, I somehow hadn't been prepared for the sight.

I rubbed my jaw, still watching her. Even after seeing her dance with guy after guy all night, I still couldn't get over how beautiful she looked tonight. Her hair was pulled back in an elegant side swept updo, showing off the long curve of her neck and the dips of her collarbone. Her pink dress looked like it had been made for her—knowing that her mom was a famous fashion designer, it probably was actually made just for Ava. The sweetheart, off-the shoulder neckline also did nothing to help with my jealousy. Because let’s face it, the girl knew just the right cut to wear in order to have every teenage guy within a two-hundred-yard radius turning their heads to stare at her.

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