Page 36 of Don't Remind Me
She grinned. “Don’t worry, I don’t think we were actually introduced. But it was the first time I saw you. I went home with Alec for winter break my junior year, and you were back home for a few weeks before going abroad again. To Italy, maybe?”
That was right. I’d only gone home because my parents had been on my case about it and offered to pay for the flight. The whole two weeks I’d spent texting Colin about our plans for Italy and counting down the days until I left.
“You weren’t around the house much, but your parents had this holiday party, and I remember seeing you there.”
I remembered that party. A bunch of my parents’ friends and colleagues drank mulled wine and champagne, laughing over white elephant gifts and showing each other pictures of their kids and grandkids. I’d watched from the corner as my dad’s work buddies patted Alec on the shoulder and asked him about his job plans once he graduated. I saw the way my dad’s chest puffed up each time at Alec’s response.
I’d felt like an outsider. The same way I’d felt most of my life. And the closer I tried to get to that inner circle, the more suffocated I felt.
What I didn’t remember was her. How that was possible, I had no fucking clue, seeing as anytime I walked into the same room as her now, the whole thing seemed to reorient until she was at its center.
Honestly, it was probably a good thing I hadn’t noticed her then. It would have been one more thing I ended up resenting Alec over. One more thing he didn’t deserve to be resented for.
Not that it stopped me from resenting him for it now anyway.
“And?” I asked lightly, trying to ease the bitter taste in my mouth. Her steps slowed as we reached the stairs to a brick apartment building. “Has your impression of me gotten better or worse since then?”
She held my gaze as she grasped the railing and placed one foot behind her on the lowest step. She climbed slowly backward, studying me as she went.
I followed, one step behind, our eyes level the whole way until we reached the top. Her back hit the door as I rose above her, and I stepped in close, drawn to her by some gravitational force.
“Better,” she said, head tipped back to hold my gaze, the curve of her cheek illuminated by the streetlights. The corners of her mouth lifted, and I shifted closer, less than a foot of space between us. “Definitely better.”
Her impression of me before could have been trash enough that better didn’t mean much. But from the way her gaze burned into mine, I didn’t think that was the case. The way she’d said it made my chest expand with warmth I never wanted to fade.
She tilted her head at the building behind her and whispered, “This is me.”
It was. Not the building but the breathtaking woman in front of me. Her wide-open gaze was a beacon into her soul, inviting me to look at her. To see her.
All of her.
In a way I doubted even my brother had seen. Because if he had, he never would have let her walk away.
My gaze dropped to her mouth, and I swayed closer, her lips parting on an inhale, chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, nearly brushing mine.
Words fell from her lips, breathy and low. “You want to?—”
My phone buzzed against my leg, jerking me back.
“Sorry,” I said as I reached into my pocket.
Dani straightened away from the door, tucking her hair behind her ears, her cheeks turning pink.
I looked at my phone, and my stomach clenched. Of course, my mom was calling me right now. It went through to voicemail, but knowing my mom, she wouldn’t just leave a message and wait for me to call back.
I shoved my hand through my hair and forced myself to meet Dani’s gaze. “It’s my mom. I’d ignore it, but she’ll just keep calling.”
Sure enough, the phone buzzed again in my hand as “Mom” lit up the screen.
“It’s okay,” Dani assured me with a soft smile. “It’s getting late, anyway. I should probably call it a night.” She turned for the door, then paused, casting her warm gaze back at me, rooting me in place. “Thank you,” she said again. “For everything.”
She rose onto her toes and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. An electric charge ricocheted from her lips through my body, pulling my muscles taut and stealing my breath.
Before I could find it again, she was gone, the latch clicking shut behind her as she disappeared inside.
I listened to her footsteps climb the stairs on the other side of the door as I hung on to the moment a second longer. Then I blew out a breath and answered the phone.
“Hey, Mom.” I descended the stairs to the sidewalk.
