Page 30 of Pocketful of You

"Oh." Chris laughed lightly. "Good one, bro."

Meanwhile, my heart pumped so hard in my chest, I felt faint. I could feel the tears burning at the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

"Chris, do you mind?" Anxious, I looked to my boyfriend who gave me the green light with a supportive thumb's up before returning to his all-important card game with Presley.

Lovely.

Just freaking lovely.

Breathing labored, I followed Sketch onto the dancefloor, ignoring the wide-eyed stares we were receiving, as he swung me out for a twirl and then quickly pulled me back to his chest, moving our bodies in rhythm with the music.

With one hand pressed possessively to my lower back, he tenderly placed my arm around his neck and then did the same with the other hand.

Tears pooled in my eyes and I carefully kept them open, not daring to blink. I knew if I did, the dam would burst. Blinking tears away never worked when wearing mascara. Therefore, I had to stare them back to hell.

My hands resting on his shoulders were trembling, my own shoulders rigid. My throat felt like sawdust, my heart crushed to pieces. I was seventeen years old and still completely in love with the boy who broke my heart. I was still in love with my boyfriend's brother.

"Pretend," he murmured in my ear, pulling my body flush against his, hands moving to rest on my hips. "Just for one dance."

I didn’t need to ask him what he meant by that.

I already knew.

Trembling, I pressed my cheek to his chest and let myself wrap my arms around his waist. This was a terrible idea, one guaranteed to crush my heart to tiny, irreparable pieces, and still, I was all in. Because three minutes of pretending with Sketch was worth the next six months I would undoubtedly spend in therapy.

I felt his cheek rest on my hair and then his breath fanned my ear. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I whispered back without an ounce of hesitation.

A shiver rolled through him that ricocheted right through me.

Resting my head on his chest, I closed my eyes and listened to every single word of the song playing around us. I counted every one of his thundering heart beats, inhaling him deeply, and wishing the song would play forever.

"You're the only one who ever loved me the way I needed," I breathed, tightening my hold on his rock-hard waist.

"You're the only one who ever loved me at all," he replied, so sincerely that something inside of me cracked.

My face contorted in pain and a sob escaped me.

It wasn’t fair.

Why couldn’t he just want me the way he used to?

Why did it have to be this way?

Why did I feel like I was losing myself?

Wrangling in my feelings, I forced myself to ignore the emotional war raging inside of me and slapped on a smile.

Enjoy this, Romi.

Enjoy him.

Be in this moment with him.

"One more dance," he urged, keeping ahold of my body when the song ended and another began to play.

Even though we both knew it was over between us, we continued to pretend, recklessly rubbing and grinding our bodies together to the sensual lyrics of Maroon 5'sLips on You.

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