Page 107 of Love Complicated

“No, yes.” I sigh, the weight on my heart heavy. “But Brooks. . . Madalyn. . . Ridge.”

Henry nods. He gets it. Breathing out, Tori steps ahead of us, and Henry wraps an arm around me, big and solid. It’s nice and warms me but doesn’t take the nerves away.

I will say one good thing about Austin—if there’s one. I always felt comfortable when we went to these events for the simple fact that he was with me, by my side. He’d lead me into a room, his confidence, his presence in this town enough for the both of us.

Now I’m walking in alone, afraid and naked. Just kidding. That’s a TV show, but still, metaphorically speaking, this is similar.

When I do step inside, it’s something like a movie. You know. . . it’s like I’m trapped in one of those mafia movies when they have you dig your own grave and the entire time you’re thinking, are they really going to kill me?

You know what might?

Spotting Ridge tucked away in the back, I take a deep breath as voices fade, the room whispers to the sound of my heart, just for a second.

Inthismoment, the one that takes my breath with it, nothing else matters but his eyes and my pounding heart. Nothing but this incessant tugging that screams “with him, you’re safe. With you, he’s careful, loving, insistent and present,” unlike Austin.

Like Ridge’s existence in my life, he burns brightly and hides in the dark, and I know, in these brief passing seconds, I amneverwithout him. I never was. Even if I had tried, I can never forget him. He embeds himself within the smallest corners of my being, a place he will be forever for what he’s shown me. How to love again after betrayal.

In a black tux as dark as his gaze upon me, he stands there looking too perfect to be mine, but I search for some kind of affirmation that he always will be. But his face is somewhat impassive. It’s his eyes that tell a story, his darkness, a beautiful shadow bursting life inside my chest. He’s perfect.

He approaches, his lips parting, and my pulse flutters. “You look pretty,” he whispers, his hand on my back, gently prompting me into the space I don’t want to be, as if he knows without him, I wouldn’t have gone.

But with him, for the first time since Austin and I split, I don’t want to run or walk. I want to be in this moment with Ridge, breathless, a spark, a burst of desire to be claimed by him.

Ridge moves his palm lightly across my lower back, drawing me close, hand settling on the curve of my waist. “Can we skip this bullshit and have sex in the bathroom?”

His fingertips trail over the black satin of my dress. I press my lips to his temple, smiling at this dirty boy holding me tight.

With him, I’m not broken.

I’mnotunloved.

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