Page 43 of Choosing Her
“How’d you know?”
“Takes one to know one.”
It wasn’t like every wealthy family in the world forced their kids into dance lessons, where they learned how waltz and foxtrot. But as Crossy and I moved around the room so seamlessly, both of us falling into the natural rhythm that was built into our muscle memory, it made perfect sense to me that he came from a family just like mine.
“In another life,” I told him, “I think this is how we would have met.”
The upstairs viewing area of the stable was about the last place I ever would have expected to slow dance, but if I closed my eyes, it was easy to picture we were somewhere else. At some lavish party thrown by my parents’ friends, with me in a long dress and him in a tux. We would watch each other from across the way, both clearly interested but knowing there was a proper procedure of how a young lady and a young man were meant to meet—one so far from how it had actually happened. He would wait a couple songs before he asked me to dance, not wanting to seem too eager, and I would pretend to hesitate before accepting.
Crossy let go of my waist so that he could spin me with one hand, and I giggled as he did, imagining the swish around my legs of a dress I wasn’t wearing. When I spun back to face him, he caught my waist and pulled me into him, our chests pressing together.
“Where would this dance have taken place?” He whispered in my ear.
“Some event,” I murmured. My eyes fluttered shut again and I breathed in deeply, trying to place myself back in the fantasy. I grinned to myself as I imagined it. “Maybe our parents would introduce us so you could be my escort to the debutante ball.”
I could feel the chuckle in his chest. “You were a debutante.”
“No, but I probably would have been if I wasn’t in boarding school, though. You?”
“I hope you’re asking if I was an escort and not that you thought I’d be walking down a staircase in a white gown.”
I giggled. “I don’t know. I think you could look really good in a white gown. Really show off your broad shoulders.”
He laughed. “No. No debutante balls for me. I think Peyton and Emerson are considering it, though.”
“I hope I can meet your sisters one day,” I sighed. Thus far, I’d only met Aspen, but I was curious about the rest of them. Didthey look as much like him as Aspen did or not at all? What were they like? I already knew he got along with them better than I did Naomi, but how much? Were they friends?
“Can I tell you something, Saylor?” he whispered.
“Anything,” I breathed back.
He was silent for a long time, so long that I thought he forgot what he was gonna say. But then he whispered, “I never loved Naomi.”
If he didn’t keep us moving, I think I would have frozen from shock. As it was, I seemed to be moving on autopilot, following his lead the way that I was taught in every dance class, but my mind a million miles away.
“What…” I breathed out. I thought I was trying to ask a question but I lost it after one word.
His mouth was next to my ear now, his breath tickling me. “I lied when I told you I loved her.”
Just like that, we weren’t standing in some stable room anymore. We were standing beside my pool in my backyard, with Crossy’s hard expression in front of me—more serious than I’d ever seen. He’d always been such a goofy, fun-loving guy around me, but Naomi seemed to bring out a different part of him, from what I saw. I hated it.
And I had never felt more justified in shoving someone into a pool.
“Then why’d you say it?” I asked now. My hand slid across his back, running along his hard muscles until they came to a clasp behind his neck. We weren’t even dancing anymore. We were just swaying like two middle schoolers at a school dance.
“Because…” He took a deep shuddering breath that I swore I could feel through my whole body. I waited for his next words, the ones I’d wanted to hear all this time but had never allowed myself to hope for. “Because I didn’t want to admit that I was still in love with you.”
I wasn’t supposed to care about Caleb Cross anymore. He should have been ancient history in my mind by now, but as I looked up at his deep, caring eyes now, I knew that as much as I wanted to hate him, that spark ofwhat could have beenhad remained alive and well in my heart. I wanted him, more than I’d ever wanted anyone else. He was my first and only kiss. My first and only love. If I didn’t have him, I wanted nobody.
“Crossy—”
“Don’t. Don’t say anything. Don’t tell me you don’t love me. Don’t tell me you don’t want me to love you. I just needed you to know the truth.” He put two fingers under my chin, tilting it up and forcing me to hold his gaze. His touch was soft but it still sent shivers down my spine. How could he still have so much control over me? “I loved you, Saylor. Not her.” He leaned in, his mouth mere millimetres from mine. “It was always you.”
CHAPTER 23
saylor
When Crossy stepped back,I almost pulled him closer to me on instinct. As it was, I barely managed to stop myself from grabbing his arm as he walked back to his bag and sighed.
