Page 60 of Falling Like Leaves
His hands on her hips shouldn’t matter to me.
Her ass rocking against him shouldn’t make me want to burn the building down.
And yet.
I force myself to look away. I’m having fun with Jake. I’m not letting some weird feelings ruin this night.
We dance for another fifteen minutes before my feet feel like they might fall off. Louboutins are gorgeous, but they’re not exactly meant for high-exertion activities.
“I gotta go take my shoes off. I’ll be back,” I shout into Jake’s ear. He nods, and I fight my way off the dance floor. I can’t leave my mom’s shoes anywhere, though—they’re too special to risk losing. So instead I head outside and let the crisp night air cool me as I rest my throbbing feet.
I’m sitting at one of the metal picnic tables when footsteps approach.
Then Cooper sits across from me.
“Hey,” he says. “Taking a break?”
“Yeah, it’s hot in there.”
“At least you aren’t stuck in long sleeves and pants.” His thin black tie is loosened around his neck, his top two buttons undone, and his shirt untucked. His hair is sweaty and disheveled. He looks so good. His eyes dip to the silky black fabric I’m wearing. “I can’t believe you made the dress.”
“It was harder than I thought. There are plenty of mistakes, things I wish I’d had time to fix. But yeah.” I smile, looking at him. “I sort of can’t believe I did it either.”
“I’m impressed,” he says. “It’s… stunning.”
My insides swell with pride, and my cheeks heat. “Thank you.”
He takes his phone from his pocket. His thumbs move swiftly over the screen before he looks at me and says, “Text me.”
“Um, okay…” I grab my phone from my tiny clutch purse and send a text as he sets his phone on the table in front of me.
Dress Designer Ellis:hi?
My heart dances before my brain shuts it down fast, pressure building in my chest. I grab his phone and hit the edit button.Journalist Ellis.I pass his phone back to him. He frowns at it but then fixes his face.
“So,” he says, changing the subject, “are you having fun? Jake said this is your first school dance.”
“It is, and I am, yeah.”
He nods, and silence falls between us. I’m dying to ask himwhat he’s thinking about, but then he takes off his boutonniere and starts pulling it apart, tugging the end of the small black ribbon wrapped around the red rose that matches Chloe’s dress.
He reaches over and gently grabs my wrist. He ties the ribbon in a bow around it. “I’m sorry for yelling at you yesterday.”
I peel my eyes from his fingers on the soft skin of my inner wrist and look at him, but he’s focused on what he’s doing. “Thanks for saying that. But you weren’t wrong. Even if I didn’t feel like I had a choice, it was still messed up.”
“It was,” he agrees. “But I could have handled it better.” He plucks the black berries from his deconstructed pile of flowers and begins weaving the short stems around the ribbon. I’m mesmerized by his delicate movements as he tucks his little white flowers into it. “What happened with New York?”
I sigh. “The meeting was canceled, and my dad had more important things to do than see his daughter.”
“I’m sorry.”
I shrug. “It is what it is.”
His eyes meet mine. “You know you’re allowed to be upset. You don’t have to pretend it’s fine.”
I look away. “It is fine.”
“Okay.”
