Page 78 of My Heart to Keep
I collected the box and had just started to leave the storeroom when Celia flew in.
“O-M-G. You have got to see him.” She practically dragged me out with her. I’d known Celia since the second grade, and I knew two things excited her—horses and Shawn Mendes. I didn’t see a horse anywhere in the store, and there was no way Shawn Mendes would be in our small town in Massachusetts.
We settled in the doorway, looking out at the various customers milling around.
She leaned in. “He’s over by the hats.”
I followed her gaze, or more like her finger, which she had pointed at what Momma would call a tall drink of water.
“Isn’t he dreamy?” Celia cooed.
The boy’s sandy-blond hair was cut short on the sides like the men I’d seen in those military movies my dad loved to watch.
I wanted to ask her what had happened to her crush on Liam. Instead, I sighed like Celia had at the Shawn Mendes concert. The somewhat heavy box in my hand felt weightless.
Dreamy didn’t begin to describe the boy at all. He had a strong jaw, a somewhat crooked nose as though he’d broken it in a fight, and a broad chest.
He tried on a beanie that my granny had made then examined himself in the small mirror we had on the counter for that very reason.
“I love how that Henley fits him,” Celia said.
Dreamy Boy checked the price on the hat then returned it to the pile. My heart fell a notch. He was dressed nicely enough in jeans, army boots, and no jacket, which seemed odd considering the temperature was around fifteen degrees outside.
“You should go talk to him,” Celia said without looking at me.
I didn’t know if he’d heard Celia or if he felt us staring, but he lifted his head. When he did, I flinched and almost dropped the box.
Celia waved.
The blood drained from me. “Don’t bring attention to us.”
Granny had always said that one day, Celia would be trouble. I’d laughed many times when I’d heard that. But I was beginning to think that Granny had some foresight.
Regardless, I didn’t need some boy to pick on me or look down at me as if I were beneath him, and Dreamy Boy was giving me that vibe until one side of his mouth turned up. Whether he was looking at Celia or me, one thing was certain—my pulse galloped as fast as my horse, Apple. I couldn’t look away.
His big blue eyes sucked me in and gobbled me up. He had hair like James Dean—thick, sandy blond, and longer on top. His pretty lips were to die for. Yeah, I was crushing hard.
“A penny for your thoughts,” a deep male voice said in my ear.
I blinked away that snowy November day to find Trevor staring down at me. His blond hair was slicked back with gel, and his green eyes seemed to glow in the dimly lit atmosphere. He looked dapper in his bow tie and pinstripe suit complete with suspenders.
I scanned the immediate area for Claire. The girl would have a hissy fit if she caught him talking to me. She’d already given me the evil eye when I bumped into her earlier.
“Where’s Claire?” I asked.
He tucked a hand in his slacks. “She went to the bathroom. She might be there a while. The line is long.”
I sighed. “I wish Maiken was here,” I said more to myself.
I was happy Celia and I had come together, but as the song morphed into a slow one, I wanted Maiken desperately. I wanted to celebrate the end of our senior year together. I wanted to dance with him. I wanted to hold him, kiss him, and feel his arms around me.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Care to dance?”
I painted on a fake smile. “Thank you, but I’ll pass.” Claire would have a cow if she saw Trevor and me dancing. But that wasn’t the sole reason I said no. I just wasn’t into dancing with anyone other than Maiken.
“So tell me, Quinn Thompson, who do you think will win king and queen tonight?”
He couldn’t be serious. Who cared about that award? I didn’t. I also knew I wouldn’t be the queen of the ball.
