Page 12 of Lessons In Love
A video loop starts playing on a large projection screen hanging on one wall and I grin, watching as the years melt away and I’m transported back to my senior year. It’s weird seeing myself and Aria as teenagers, working on the stage crew for the theater department.
Interspersed with the photos are headlines from the year, just to remind us that an entire decade has passed and we’re now closer to thirty than eighteen. The mainstream horror of twerking—and its subsequent addition to the dictionary—way to fail, America—inspires several brave individuals to try it on the dance floor, much to Myles’s shock and my horrified amusement.
When it switches back to school activities, including a long tribute to the school’s football championship—the only one in recent history—I turn to Myles. “Do you want to dance?” I ask, hopefully, wanting something normal to do rather than looking like we’re here to chaperone the reunion, tasked with keeping the nefarious youth six inches apart.
“No,” he says tersely, walking toward the bar without a glance in my direction.Well then.
Someone taps me on my shoulder and I spin, praying it’s not Lachlan, while secretly hoping it is. A smile quickly blooms across my face when I see an old friend pulling me into a hug. “Daisy!” My arms go around her waist and I squeal. “How are you?Whereare you? How have you—” My attention is drawn to the tall, handsome guy behind her. “C-chad?” I stammer. I look between them as he steps up and pulls her back into his body, his arm around her waist. My eyes are drawn down at the movement and I see him gently caressing her belly.A baby bump.
My heart aches for just a moment. “Wait. You. A-andyou? Wow. I might need another drink for this story!” I laugh, but I can’t help but wonder how a theater nerd—thetheater nerd—managed to snag the all-American quarterback. They certainly didn’t run in the same circles back at school.
Chad smiles at me, brushing a kiss over Daisy’s cheek. “I’ll go get you ladies a drink. Delaney, what would you like?”
“Club soda with lime, please.”
He nods, walking toward the bar.
“So how didthathappen?” I ask, waving a finger between her and her husband’s retreating form.
“Oh, you know. Same old story. Same schools. Jock and drama nerd. He and his buddies came to the production opening night, prepared to mock, and next thing I know, we’re feeding each other sushi on a swing at the local playground under the stars.”
I can’t stifle the laugh that bubbles out of me. It’s so ridiculous it’s cute.
“So…” she starts, looking around. “Are you here with anyone?”
I sigh, wishing Myles could just pretend to be happy to be here—for me. After all the parties I’ve attended with him—and hosted on his behalf—it should be the very least he could do to not scowl.
“I, um… yes. My boyfriend, Myles, is around here somewhere. I’m sure you’ll see him. Six foot, gray eyes, a little older. Oh, and scowling.” I immediately regret mentioning it—my relationship drama isn’t appropriate small talk for this evening of fun. I turn, looking for him, prepared to point him out, when a throat clears behind me.
“Delaney, we need to talk,” Myles says quietly.
My spine straightens and I turn around to face my stern-faced boyfriend, disbelieving that he’s demanding this discussion here of all places, after being distant, rude, and unpleasant all evening. He leads me farther from the fray, near a dark corner of the room.
I look around quickly, grateful that we’re not close enough for people to overhear, but our quiet, tense conversation is attracting curious looks. I lean forward, standing on my tiptoes, placing my hand on his chest, making it look like I’m about to kiss Myles. Instead, I whisper in his ear, “Can’t this wait? This is supposed to be a fun night.”
“No, Delaney. It can’t wait. I’ve been patient, but I can’t do it anymore,” he says gruffly, running his hand through his hair in frustration.
Before I can respond, plead with him to have this conversation at home, he launches into a scathing indictment of my place—and inadequacies—in our relationship. According to Myles, I fail to give him the attention he needs and deserves, instead spending my time on work and frivolous pursuits. I wince, but let him continue, hiding the hurt of his words deep down where he can’t see them.
When I’ve had enough, I turn to leave, to find a ride home, and I gasp when his hand grabs my wrist, squeezing tightly, holding me in place.
“We’re not finished, Delaney,” he hisses, bending down to bring his eyes level with mine. His face is red, flushed with anger, and I can see his eyes are glazed over with bloodlust—he scents my pain and discomfort and it stokes him into a frenzy.
I’ve never seen this side of him—at least not directed at me—and I’m starting to fear that he may not be in control of his actions for much longer. As panic settles around me, and I try to free my wrist from his painful grasp, I’m about to call for help when I hear a familiar voice come from behind me.
“Is everything okay here?”
My heart skips a beat as I turn my head, relief flooding me as I see Lachlan Romero standing there, watching us. His presence is painful but comforting, because I know that he would never hurt me—at least not physically.
I feel him move closer, heat radiating from his body and giving me unexpected comfort. Moving to the side, he growls when he sees Myles holding my wrist tightly.
“We’re fine. Our discussion is none of your concern. Get lost,” Myles grits out, glaring at Lachlan, fury burning in his eyes.
“Myles,” I say, trying to calm him down. “This is Lachlan, an old friend from high school. Lachlan, my boyfriend, Myles.” Neither man acknowledges me as they continue to glare at each other.
“Sorry to interrupt, Delaney. I overheard part of your conversation and wanted to make sure you’re alright.” Lachlan’s tone is concerned, but friendly, further inciting Myles.
Myles steps closer, nearly pushing me into Lachlan’s chest. The air grows thick as I stand between them, breathing shallowly as I watch them size each other up. They’re of similar builds, though Lachlan has a couple of inches on Myles.
