Page 26 of Crazy About Love (All About Love)

“Not that.” She laughs, then nods at the corner.“That.”

17 MONTHS, 29 DAYS AGO: 8:59P.M.

I’ve gotta hand it to her—Theresa sure knows how to pull a party out of thin air. My only job is to keep my mouth shut about it all day while Lizzie’s at work, and trust me, it’s not that difficult. I think even if I do let something slip, Lizzie wouldn’t notice. She’s off kissing broom handles and falling on top of the display mattresses and lost in some newly-engaged-girl world every time she stares at her hand. After I catch her using a Sharpie to graffiti the boxes in the back, I send her home with a laugh and close up shop myself.

When I walk through the club doors, I’m not expecting to be immediately bombarded by the girl who unknowingly shattered my heart, but I am. And all I can see is the shiny white of her teeth and her glowing bracelet that saysOVER 21.

“Hey!” Theresa says like I haven’t been ignoring her for over a week, then throws her arms around my shoulders. I breathe in and can’t help the sudden takeoff in my chest from her scent. My arms and fingers twitch, and again, I just can’t help the way they glide over her upper back, squeezing with gentle pressure to feel all of her toned and not-so-toned skin just under this thin piece of fabric. It’s an aching reminder of how much I love this girl, and how much shedoesn’tlove me. I jerk back as if my gut has been punched by an iron fist.

“So, I’ve got an extra shirt if you need it.” She grins when she pulls away. “Wasn’t sure if you got my text about it being a paint party, since younever responded.” She laughs like it’s not a big deal, and the fact that it isn’t a big deal sends that iron fist hurling back into my stomach.

“I’m good,” I tell her, then scan the club for something, someone, other than her. The room is full of painted bodies and tangled couples. Jace is over at the bar, and I nod like an idiot, pretending he’s waving me over. “I’ll catch you later.”

Her eyebrows pull together slightly, but she shakes it off as more people float in.

I ignore her. It sucks.

“Here, dude,” Jace says when I flump onto the barstool next to him. Being the good friend that he is, he pushes some numbing juice in my direction. He’s the only one who knows about the night I had a massive brain fart and told Theresa I loved her. It’s good of him, and normally I’d take it. But I push the glass back, the neon light dancing off the bar top. Not tonight. I want to feel something tonight: excitement for Lizzie and Landon (Landon’s been carrying that ring around for weeks now); joy from getting off work; having a good time dancing; pain. Yeah, I’d even take feeling pain tonight. Maybe the sooner I let myself feel it, the faster it’ll go away.

I push myself off the barstool and head over to the paint drums. A pretty girl with a nice smile hands me a drumstick and pours some neon blue and green on top of the taut fabric. I twirl the drumstick in my hand before crashing it into the paint. The thud of the bass drum rumbles up through my arm as the paint splatters all over my gray shirt. A laugh picks up from my gut, and I hit the drum again and again and again, until I’m covered, and the girl next to me is covered, and the guy next to her is covered, and I decide this is just as good as getting drunk.

“The engaged couple’s here!” a voice calls out. I pull the paint goggles from my face and watch as Theresa points us all to the front door.

My best friend and his fiancée are unmistakable, dressed in white from top to bottom, and when congratulations are yelled from every direction in the club, Lizzie jumps back with a large surprised grin on her face, bumping into Landon.

I’ve known Landon nearly my whole life. He was my best bro growing up, and we’ve gone through different girls and relationships. But the way he looks at Liz as he catches her and kisses her cheek, and even when she gets pulled into the crowd by all the girls in the place to ogle the ring he gave her, I just…I’ve never seen that look on him for anyone else. Makes me think that maybe there is that one person for each of us. Just have to find her.

My eyes subconsciously drift to Theresa, who’s admiring Lizzie’s ring, cheek painted with a pink streak. I wonder if I have “the look” when I gaze at Theresa, or if I haven’t found the girl to give “the look” to yet.

After a good internal scolding and a shake of my head, I hand the drumsticks over to the pretty paint girl and make my way to Landon. Tonight is not about me.

“Hey, finally did it,” I tell him with a pat on the shoulder, staining his blindingly white T-shirt with blue paint. He downs what I assume is the first of many congratulatory shots, then wipes his lips with the back of his hand and throws me a smile.

“Accidentally.”

“How do you mean?”

“It sorta came out when we were in the shower.”

I bolt out a laugh. “And she still said yes?”

He shrugs and gives knuckles to one of his buddies from his movie set as he passes. “Guess I didn’t need to drop a paycheck for a suit.”

I shake my head, remembering the day when Landon said he was going to propose to Lizzie at an outdoor restaurant (what is it about those places?) and he needed a suit. The cheapest one we found was in the back of Jace’s closet—but the legs didn’t cover Landon’s socks, and the shoulders on the jacket were so bulky it looked like he didn’t have a neck.

“Unless you count your tux,” I say, dismissing the shot that’s being offered to me by Jaycee, another one of Landon’s movie people. He takes it, shoots it back, and then returns the empty glass to her.

“All right, I’m gonna go stop that,” he says, nodding across the crowded room at Jace, who’s currently spinning Lizzie around in a dizzying circle. I pat him on the back again as he leaves, and Jaycee gives me a wide grin.

“Feel like dancing?” she asks, setting down the empty shot glasses on a nearby table. I take one look at the dance floor and immediately spot Theresa going wild out there. Wilder than usual. She probably has a few shots in her as well. A twinge of regret hits my chest, and I wonder if I should drink tonight after all, but I quickly shake myself out of it.

“I could be persuaded,” I tell Jaycee, and she grabs me by the arm and tugs me out onto the floor.

Hours later, Landon and Lizzie are getting ready to jet out, Jace is pretty smashed, Theresa isincrediblysmashed, and I’m still having a hell of a time pounding on those drums and alternating between a few dance partners.

“Hey, gotta talk to you for a second,” Jace says to me as I’m dancing with the pretty paint girl. Her name’s Kendra, and so far all I’ve learned about her is that she’s a single mom trying to make ends meet by working here. I really hope the tips are good. She seems nice.

“What’s up?” I ask over my shoulder. His unfocused eyes roll, and he waves me toward him. I excuse myself as politely as I can and follow him toward the black curtains where all the couples are painting each other.

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