Page 15 of Last Christmas (Private 0.60)
Ariana felt her hands twitch with anticipation and shoved them under her thighs.
What was wrong with her? This was Thomas Pearson. Everyone knew he was a player. The kind of guy who
hooked up with girls as long girlfriend alone on a bench with a guy like Thomas? It was embarrassing. And
Thomas had noticed it too. There was nothing Thomas Pearson didn't notice.
Suddenly, Ariana knew what she had to do. She turned to Thomas, a smile tugging at her lips. "Sorry to
disappoint, but I guess I am a good girl. Always have been, always will be." And with that, she placed her
hand on his leg, letting her fingertips graze the length of his thigh as she slowly stood up. She couldn't believe
she was doing this-especially with Daniel right outside.
Apparently, neither could Thomas, whose eyes were wide with shock. The air felt thick with electricity, and
Ariana could feel her pulse in her fingers. Her throat. Her heart. Everywhere. Touching him, even if just for a
second, felt inevitable. Like there was nothing else she could do but touch him. Breathing heavily, Thomas
reached out, as if to take her hand, but Ariana stepped away. She turned her back on him and walked to meet
Daniel in the hallway, heady with triumph. She had shocked Thomas Pearson. Mr. Aloof himself.
Apparently she was capable of such things. "Sorry to make you wait. You okay, babe?" Daniel asked, putting
his hand on the small on her back and steering her toward the hotel's exit.
"Fine," she lied. She actually felt faint and vaguely ill from the gravity of what she had just done-the line
she had just crossed. She had done something unpredictable. Something off-script and unplanned. And she
had enjoyed it.
But now, as they entered the empty lobby and Daniel took her hand in his, the spell was broken and guilt
crashed over her in waves. Only a horrible person could think about a guy other than her boyfriend, even for a
second-and at a Christmas dance, no less.
"Have I mentioned tonight that I love you?" Daniel asked, holding the front door open for her. A sleek black
car sat in circular drive, the driver waiting patiently at the curb.
Ariana looked up at Daniel, searching his angular features and Brooks Brothers tux, looking for a stain, a scar,
a flaw. There was none. Even post-booting he was perfect. "I love you too," she murmured, giving him a
quick kiss on the cheek. In that moment, she decided that whatever had happened with Thomas was nothing.
Stupid. Meaningless. The result of too much champagne. Daniel was her boyfriend. Her life. The right guy.
She repeated the words over and over in her head, believing them each time. But when she stepped out into
the freezing December night air, she realized that her leg still burned where Thomas had touched her.
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