“And why are we running away from her?”
“I’ve been kind of avoiding her,” I confess. “Not returning her calls and stufflike that.”
“Why?”
I shrug as my hand on Natalia’s lower back pushes us closer together to avoid stepping on an overactive flower girl twirling with her small wicker basket worn over her head like a hat. “It was just a one-time thing. I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I thoughtshewasn’t either.”
She makes this littletsksound that’s meant to be scolding but comes off as playful instead. “Is that why you brought me? To avoid her?”
Instead of answering, I smile sheepishly.
“Hayden,” she scolds.
“I know!” I finally cave, the strain of guilt and apology spreading across my face. “I know. It was a shitty thing to do. But it just kind of happened. I mean, we were all just drinking and having a good night. And one thing led to another.”
Her right hand releases my left, gripping my shoulders as she gives me a small shake and a firm squeeze. My free hand moves to her waist as we both continue to dance, the music moving us rather than our own feet.
“So…” Her voice trails. “It wasn’t serious?”
Her question doesn’t hold the expected deride I thought it would, her finding humor in the fact that my active single lifestyle finally caught up to me. Instead, it carries the hint of caution and something familiar. Like the light pang of tenderness that seeps through her aloofness when she brings up my random dates with the women I meet on Cupid’s Bet.
“No,” I answer earnestly. “It wasn’t. And it’s been a couple of months since I actually spoke to her.”
She nods. “It sounds like that roster of yours is growing in length, Marshall,” she says, a lightness lifting her voice to make it sound playful. “Those Cupid’s Bet girls have some competition. Maybe you should petition for your own season ofThe Bachelor.”
“Cupid’s Bet girls?” I ask, a single brow curved upward in amusement. I try to suppress the smile I can’t help when I see the small flush of pinkrise from her collarbone, like a horizon of cherry sorbet brushing across her delicate skin.
She lightly shrugs, her flush disappearing almost instantly. “I gave up keeping track of all your conquests. I’ve decided to call your groupies ‘Cupid’s Bet girls’ from here on out. It’s just easier.”
“And you’re not one of those groupies?”
She gnaws on her lower lip, the deep color on her lips contrasting against her white teeth. Her mouth twitches with a smile that forces its way through before she says, “You haven’t wooed me yet, Marshall.”
“I guess I need to improve my efforts,” I whisper, lowering my head so my cheek grazes against her temple. I don’t mean for my voice to grow low, the need to pull her as close to me as possible seeping through the disguised want in my voice, but it does.
With her cheek turned toward my shoulder and her body shaking in a playful giggle, I chuckle. My hand spreads the length of her flank as my thumb grazes the sensitive spot along her ribcage. My face turns so our foreheads are almost touching, and Natalia looks up at me with her hands hooked around my neck and my arms cinching around her waist. Our bodies continue to move to their own accord, swaying to the music as we develop a rhythm that’s ours.
As the groom, Ashton had a couple of conditions to his wedding. Such as a red velvet-flavored cake, an open bar, and a wedding singer with a live band to play popular covers in place of a tacky DJ. That last one was one Carly couldn’t even disagree with. And right now, as the wedding singer’s smooth, velvety voice sings Elvis Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love” while strumming along to a guitar hanging around her neck and a low violin playing alongside by a member of her band, I understand the appeal. A DJ wouldn’t have provided this cloistered bubble expanding large enough to fit only me and Natalia. It wouldn’t have sliced off this moment in time where I feel as if everything around us has vanished, leaving only us twoswaying in the middle of the dance floor. And my heart wouldn’t have this single moment where it hopes, just for a second, for more.
“Natalia,” I whisper into the small space between us. It’s only inches from my lips to hers. That nagging thought, the musing that keeps popping in my head, making me wonder if our kiss was just a fluke or if every kiss with Natalia would leave me practically ethereal, causes me to lower my head an inch closer.
I feel Natalia’s hand grip me tighter, and it causes my heart to stutter. It actually feels like it skips a beat as I remember a moment from our past that’s been brought to us, front and center. It’s as if someone took a knife and cut out the edges of that specific memory, only to prove to us not to venture down this path. And just as quickly, the urge to kiss her disappears as I realize I’m not ready to risk losing her again.
“Thank you,” I finish as her round brown eyes look up at me. “Thanks for coming tonight.” I thank her instead of saying what I really want to say:I’m falling for you all over again.
24
Hayden
senior year
“I heardBen brought some weed! He’s passing it around in the parking lot!” Jenny calls over the blaring music. My gaze shifts across the banquet hall at the Dayton Country Club, the twinkling lights and bluish hue painted across the room looking so typically fitting for our 2014 Starry Night prom theme.
I look down at Jenny, her hand linked through my arm as she smiles up at me, her dark makeup smeared across her lids with lips painted in a deep maroon color. I nod when she continues to look at me, waiting for an answer. Just as we continue our steps into the banquet hall, we’re interrupted by Tina approaching Jenny, tugging at her arm and pulling her toward the direction we came in from.
“Come on!” she calls to me, her smilestretching across her face as she follows Tina willingly.
Just as I turn to go with her, I catch a glimpse of someone I’ve been eager to see since I stepped into my rented tux. “You guys go ahead,” I call over the music. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit.”