Page 79 of Two Kinds of Us

Pretty. That it was.

But what else was pretty?Him. I could’ve looked at him all night. The way the chandelier lights graced his face looked magical. Maybe it was the warm glow that reflected against his eyelashes, or the way it streaked through his hair, bringing out hints of gold.

So freaking handsome. I wanted to kiss him.

“There you are,” Margot said to my right, and I found her easing away from the wall a few feet from us. “You two seem to have the habit of being late to things. Do you make out in the car?”

Harry laughed easily at that, as if we were standing in Crushed Beanz rather than the country club. “Not in the car.”

“Well, you’re here now.” Margot gestured toward the dance floor, where all the gossips were watching us. I caught Ms. Jennings’s eye, her gaze roaming over Harry like a hungry wolf. “Go mingle.”

Harry straightened, looking expectantly to me. “Who should I meet first?”

By that moment, Ms. Jennings had crossed the dance floor to us, her mauve-painted lips spreading into a glorious smile. “I recognize you,” she declared. “You’re the guy from Le Petit Bateau. You served our table.”

“That’s me,” he said with an easy grin, extending his hand. “Harrison.”

He’d been serious about the whole alter ego thing. It made me fight a smile.

Ms. Jennings laid her hand in his, almost as if she expected him to kiss it or something. “Call me Ally.”

Ew.

Harry took her hand and simply shook it. “Nice to meet you.”

Her gaze roamed over him, much like mine had earlier when I found him at the foot of the staircase. Even though Ms. Jennings was easily twenty years older than me, I found jealousy percolating underneath my skin, simmering on high. Harry, though, didn’t move his hand from my waist, a pressure that left me feeling somewhat victorious in this situation.

“Have you seen my mother?” I asked her, trying to see over the crowd of people.

“Bah, you don’t want to spend the evening with your mother, do you?” She waved her hand in the air, her diamond bracelet jingling. “Let’s go mingle! You know, Marty has been dying to talk to you about your scholarship application, Destelle. His wife told me about it the other day at tea. Theylovedyour essay. I think I saw him over by the band—”

I grabbed Harry by the arm. “Actually, I think we’re going to find someone first,” I told her, cutting her off unkindly. “We’ll catch up with you later.”

Ms. Jennings’s eyes roamed over Harry once more. “You’d better.”

Harry let me drag him through the crowd of people, going in the opposite direction of the band.

“She seems kind.” Harry swept my curls off my shoulder, his finger lingering at the bare skin near my collarbone. The dress was a little more low-cut than I normally wore, but nothing of scandalous proportions. However, just that touch of his fingertip sent a shiver through me, raising goosebumps.

“These people have mastered the art of the fake smile,” I told him in a hushed whisper, glancing around. No one paid us any attention, though, too caught up in their conversations. “You never know what they’re thinking.”

Harry’s hand curved around my waist, easing over the fabric of my dress. “What areyouthinking?”

I slid one hand up Harry’s chest, feeling the stiff material of the tie and vest.So many things. “I’m thinking I would rather be at Crushed Beanz right now.”

“I’m happy right here,” he said, a smile twitching at his lips.

“Or Downtown,” I murmured, wondering if his thoughts were trailing in the same direction as mine. His hands on my waist, mine around his neck, barely an inch of space between us.

A ghost of a smile touched Harry’s lips as he picked up my hand from his chest. “Dance with me?”

“Uh, hate to break it to you, but if we dance like that here, we’d probably give someone a heart attack.”

That ghostly smile expanded into a real one, so wide that it crinkled his eyes. “I promise I’ll behave.”

Harry was the one who guided me to the dance floor, moving with a confidence that it was nearly impossible for me to master, even as Stella. Even though he was the odd one out here, a stranger among the masses, he was perfectly content to just be himself. I envied that.

“I’ll be honest,” he said as he settled one hand at my waist, the other holding my hand beside our shoulders. “I have no idea how to dance like this.”

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