Page 13 of The Second Dance

She peers up at me through a fan of dark eyelashes. “Living in the past like this. Still talking about high school. How do you stand it?”

She’s got a lock of hair that’s fallen down along her cheek. My fingers itch to reach out and push it behind her ear.

“Sometimes it gets a little old.” I admit. “But there are good memories, too.”

She drops her gaze. “Good memories for you, maybe.” She turns her head away. “I know everyone was just laughing at me.”

“When? At prom?”

She nods. “I looked ridiculous. So what? Everyone was awkward back then. Why bring it up ten years later?”

It takes me a second to respond. I’m having a hard time aligning my perspective with hers. “Nobody was laughing at you. We were… shellshocked. You were dressed to kill.” I pause, my voice is barely more than a whisper. “You know how I felt about it.”

Her lips part and my gaze is drawn there. I want to kiss her. I want to see what those plump lips taste like. But I hold back, opting to push that soft lock of hair behind her ear instead.

She sucks in a little breath, knocking my hand away.

This time, when she walks away, I let her go.

8.

Andy

I manage to get behind the wheel of my car before the tears come.

They pour down no matter how hard I try to squeeze my eyes shut.

I can’t understand why that man feels the need to fuck with me the way he does.

Whit tells me I need to have a sense of humor. Take the teasing with a smile on my face.

But this goes beyond teasing.

It’s almost sadistic.

If he was just teasing me about my weight or my looks, I could handle that. I know how to fire back.

But he messes with my feelings.

He says the sweetest things right alongside those mocking words.

It feels particularly mean.

I just don’t understand him and probably never will.

And like a complete idiot, I’m still drawn to him. He’s the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome. And when he looks at me, I feel like a deer caught in the headlights. I’m going to make a fool of myself over that man.

Again.

Whit was right.

I can’t work with him.

Sucking in a few shaky breaths, I dig out my phone and call my lifeline.

He answers after a few rings. “Andy Bear. What’s going on?”

“Dad.” I sniff.

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