Page 26 of Fun Together (Make Romance #1)

“Ninety seconds.” He smiles and he’s so handsome and it makes me want to say yes. It makes me want to do more than just dancing.

“Fine, but I’m setting a timer on my phone.”

He beams in victory. “Deal.”

“And, starting it now,” I say, opening the app on my phone and starting the timer. He grabs my hand and pulls me over to the dance floor. I bring my other hand up to his shoulder to assume the classic slow dancing position.He guides us into a rocking motion.

“You look beautiful,” he says by my ear, causing the little wisps of hair on my temple to tremble. We’re about the same height when I’m wearing these heels.

“Thank you.” I give his tie a playful tug. “You clean up nice, too. Kind of surprised you own this.”

“Got it for my older brother’s wedding a few years ago. Comes in handy for things like this.”

“How many siblings do you have, again?”

“Two. Emmett is older, and Evie is younger.”

“Do you get along with them?”

“We have the usual good-natured bickering, but I love them. The big reason I moved back was because I really missed my family.”

“I’m sure they’re happy you’re back, too.”

“What about your family? Are you close?”

“I’m close with my grandpa, but no siblings and I don’t see my mom very often.”

He nods and we sway for a few seconds. Maybe it’s the song or that dancing with him makes me feel like sharing, but I find myself wanting to say more.

It feels easy to talk to him in way that it never has with anyone else.

I think of the conversation Rett and I had where she said I don’t open up to people very easily, and I think about his comment the other night about how it’s worth getting to know me.

Maybe I should try to put in a little effort, too.

“It was her birthday yesterday. She just turned forty-three.”

“She’s pretty young. So, she had you . . .”

“When she was seventeen,” I finish.

“Dang,” he says.

I laugh. “Yeah.”

“What about your dad?”

“It was kind of a one-time only thing with them, I think.” We sway a little more and I catch myself momentarily laying my head against his shoulder.

I straighten back up, remembering that I’m in a gray-carpeted hotel conference room surrounded by my coworkers, and not somewhere private. “I’ve never met him.”

“I’m sorry.”

“She had a hard time of it. I couldn’t imagine having a kid that young.”

“And did you have hard time of it?”

That is never a question I’ve had to answer, nor allowed myself to think about. I like to think I had a good time of it. I made good grades. I got a scholarship to go to NC State. I did all the right things. I guess it was hard sometimes, but it was just the reality of the situation.

The timer goes off, saving me from having to answer his question. I remove my right hand from his shoulder and unclasp my left hand from his.

“That was a fast ninety seconds,” he says, slightly squeezing where his hand still rests on my hip. “Sure you didn’t cheat?”

I agree, it went by really fast, but it’s probably for the best. “How dare you accuse me of cheating?”

“I think I need another minute just to make sure,” he teases.

“We had an agreement.”

“What if I say please?”I have no doubt he’s gotten away with so many things with that line and that face.

“There are plenty of others here who I’m sure would be glad to dance with you,” I say.It’s almost a challenge. Are there others you want to be dancing with?

“I don’t want to dance with them.”

I look away, feeling heat sweep up my chest. He’s looking at me like he’s the one challenging me now. Are we thinking the same thing?

“I should probably check on Rett,” I say, breaking eye contact.

He nods. “I’ll be in here if you need me.”

I don’t see her in the hallway or lobby.

I try to call her but get no answer. She must have gone outside, so I send her a text before stopping by the bathroom on my way back into the party.

There’s a line so I pull up Instagram to idly scroll to pass the time.

I swipe past a post that I almost don’t register at first.

A photo of Andrew. It’s a selfie of him and a woman.

“Faye, sweetie, the line has moved.” I look over and Tina nods to the big gap I’ve left from not moving in line.

I need to be alone for a second, but there are people milling about everywhere.

I spot the photo booth in the hallway that the company must have rented out, and it looks empty.

I rush inside and close the curtain, taking a closer look at the photo he posted.

It’s the first photo he’s shared in over a year.

I think that’s why I was so shocked to see anything from his account.

She’s pretty, with strawberry-blonde hair and a bunch of freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose. He looks happy. I’m so ensnared with my stalking that I barely register the curtain opening and Eli peeking his head inside.

“Found a hiding spot I see,” he smiles.

I hold my phone up to him. “Who is this?” I ask in what I hope is a very calm way. I feel anything other than calm. I feel . . . sick.

“That must be Emma,” he says.

“Emma,” I repeat. “Are they . . . together?”

“May I come in with you?”

I scoot over so he has room to sit down next to me.

“I don’t really know much, just that he was going there to meet her.”

I’m reeling at this information. This is not the Andrew I knew. He’d never do something like that. Maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought, either.

“I thought he—I thought—” I don’t know what’s causing me to have this reaction.

I’m the one who ended things. I’m the one who didn’t want to get married.

It’s my fault that Andrew went off to the Netherlands to meet a woman.

Seeing him with someone has blindsided me in a way I didn’t expect.

“I didn’t know,” I say, suddenly having a hard time taking a full breath.

“Breathe.” Eli places a hand on my back and moves it in a soothing motion. “You need to breathe.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Am I crying?” I reach up to touch my face and my hand comes away wet. “I never cry!”

“Maybe you need to cry,” he says gently.

“I don’t want to cry. I hate crying. My eyes get all swollen. Is this thing going to start taking our photo?”

“No, it’s not on. It’s okay. Come here.” He pulls me into a hug, and I bury my face in his neck.

This feels like when you’re a little kid and you fall down and hurt yourself, but you don’t really get upset until someone acknowledges that something is wrong.

I’m full-on sobbing now, and it’s embarrassing.

“I’m getting your shirt wet,” is all I can think to say to him.

“I don’t care.”

The thing is, I don’t think these tears are because Andrew is with someone new.

I think it’s more that the shock of seeing him with her has made me realize that I kept him from happiness for so long.

He could have met someone else years ago.

How much time did we waste together? How much time did I waste of his life, knowing I wasn’t fully in it?

I also feel jealous that he found happiness so easily. And what a terrible thing to feel.

“I’m an awful person,” I say.

He pulls me in tighter, and I adjust myself so that my legs are draped over his. “What are you talking about?” he asks.

I can’t bring myself to voice my real thoughts. That I’m selfish. That in an attempt to be nothing like my mother, I became exactly like her. Because I knew Andrew was a good man, and I didn’t want to be alone. “I just need a second.”

We don’t say anything for a few minutes, and with his continued soothing circles on my back, I feel myself beginning to calm down.

“You’re a good hugger.” This comes out muffled against the place where his shoulder meets his neck.

He chuckles. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re understandably upset. It’s tough seeing your ex with someone new.”

“I just feel so terrible. I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.”

I pull away slightly, but keep my arms wrapped around him. Eli is a good man, too. And it feels good being in his arms.It feels good being in his lap.

What the fuck? I am in Eli’s lap.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks.

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve just awoken from a coma and don’t remember who I am.”

I laugh. “I was just thinking I’m happy you’re here. And also, that I’m sitting in your lap.”

He smiles and says, “I’m happy you’re sitting in my lap, too.”

I snort, but it comes out as a sniffle. I lift my head up and we hold eye contact for a few seconds, smiling softly at each other.

It feels like my heart is running a marathon in my chest. I was just crying in this man’s arms over a failed relationship with another man.

Another man who happens to be his best friend.

And then we stop smiling. “Are you okay?” he whispers.

I nod my head and lick my lips that suddenly feel very dry. The motion causes him to look at my mouth. Then he licks his lips, causing me to look at his mouth. I want so badly to kiss him, and I wonder if he wants to kiss me, too.

My phone buzzes. “Sorry, it’s Rett.”I answer, “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’ll explain later, but it’s my grandma. I’m heading back home tonight.”

“I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do?”

“I don’t think so. Are you able to get a ride? I hate that I abandoned you.”

I meet Eli’s eyes. “It’s okay. Eli can take me home.”