Page 42 of Keep Me Never
But she’s right here, looking at me like I’m something worth holding on to, and on the inside, warmth is spreading, thawingparts of me that have been cold for too damn long. The strangest part is I actuallywantto believe what I’m seeing, what I’m feeling.
That’s the problem though, isn’t it?
The feeling is a good one, which means it’s not mine to keep. The universe has proved time and time again that the debt of something good must be paid with something bad, and I can’t handle any more bad in my life.
So with far more effort than I’d like to admit, I turn away, forcing her hand to fall back to her lap. “I’m sorry,” I say again. “I didn’t mean to sour this for you.”
“You didn’t.”
My eyes slide her way, and I can’t help my small smile. “I did, Paige. I’m over here talking before thinking and taking away your smile, and I hate that.” I pause for a second, and then I just say it, because she deserves to know, and I don’t want another regret later. “You look like an absolute angel tonight, by the way.”
Her mouth opens, but then she laughs, dipping her head and hiding behind the shield of her hair. “Thank you.”
When she peeks up, it’s with a wide grin, and I think the shade of pink her skin turns when she looks at me like this might be my new favorite color.
God, I am sofucked.
She presses her lips together and looks forward, and I nod.
“Okay.” I hop to my feet, reaching out for her when she looks up. “Let’s turn this around, yeah? Find the others and see what kind of trouble we can cause before we have to leave?”
“That sounds like a fantastic idea.” She chuckles, putting her little hand in mine, and lets me pull her up, but she’s so small that, when I do, she all but crashes against me. She tips her head back to look at me, the ends of her hair teasing along my knuckles, where my hand is pressed to the lowest curve of her back.
The light catches the little pin in her hair, making it sparkle and shine. It’s blinding. She’s blinding. “Such a tiny little thing.” I don’t mean to whisper.
How can she feel so small in my arms but be far too great to keep her there?
“Chase…”
My eyes close and I bend, pressing my forehead to hers.
“Chase—”
“Paige?” a new voice calls out, and she jumps from my arms, her head snapping to the side until we find the source. The male source.
My frown is instant, my arms slowly falling back to my sides. My feet haven’t moved an inch, yet Paige is at least three feet away.
The man’s smile grows bigger and bigger as he makes his way from where she initially climbed onto the stage. My hackles rise at that because that means he, too, had backstage access, and I don’t know why that feels like a big deal, but it does.
“Prescott, hi,” she rushes, a hint of anxiousness in her tone, but I don’t look her way to be sure.
My attention is glued to Mr. Worst Timing, and the longer I look, the worse it gets.
More like Mr. Fucking Perfect.
“Well, this is unexpected.” He smiles, his eyes glancing my way before moving back to her. “How are you?” he asks, but before she can answer, he turns to me again, likely sensing my gaze is still on him.
My frown won’t budge, not even when he stretches out his hand, his manicured nails and Rolex gleaming up at me, silently demanding I take it.
I do, making sure my grip is the firmer one.
“Prescott.” He jerks his chin respectfully.
“Chase.”
“Nice to meet you, Chase,” he says, and his tone is polite enough, making my frown deepen. His attention goes back to Paige, and I hate the interest he so clearly displays. “You look beautiful.”
I bite my tongue. He said it so easily, like he didn’t even haveto think about it or question whether or not he should. The compliment left him with confidence and without an ounce of uncertainty—because his life is secure and so is he.
