Page 133 of That Fake Feeling

And, goodGod, she looks smoking hot tonight.She’swearing the figure-hugging sequined red dress from our magazine photo shoot.Thatthing holds a lifetime’s worth of memories of the first timeIsaw and, er,felther in it.

Mycock twitches at the flashback pinging around my mind asIwrap my arm around her waist and rest my hand on her sparkly hip.

Shewears the old-schoolHollywoodglamour look well.Herhair falls in shiny brunette waves, and her lips look like soft pillows in their matte red lipstick.

Tobe fair, though, she’s equally as smoking hot in the jeans and sweatshirts she wears to school every day and hangs out in while studying at home.Evenwhen they have remnants of snack stains down the front.

Butthis dress will always have a special place in my heart.

“Youlook fucking spectacular,”Itell her for the hundredth time this evening.

Sheruns her fingers along the neckline, as ifIwasn’t already struggling to keep my eyes off her perfect cleavage. “NeverthoughtI’dhave anywhere to wear it.Butif you can’t rock a sparkly red dress at aChristmasparty, when the hell can you?”

“Yousure as hell rock it.”Islide my hand over her butt and squeeze gently asIwhisper in her ear, “AndIcan’t wait to rock you right out of it.”

Shelooks up at me with a big smile. “Easy, tiger.Thereare a lot of people here.”

Notwanting to disturb her makeup but desperate to have my mouth on some part of her,Idip my head and suck her earlobe…just asMaxandPollyemerge from the crowd withElliot.

“Whoa, guys,”Maxsays. “Thisis a public place.”

“Aren’tyou watchingMomandDad?”Elliotpoints toward the band.

Everyone’scleared a space in the middle of the dance floor and is standing around the edges, clapping asDadtwirlsMomaround and around, then dips her for a kiss just as the song ends.

Pollyhooks her arm throughMax’sand looks up at him. “Ihope we end up like that.”

“Youwant me to start dancing?”Maxlooks like he’s just been asked to juggle a dozen live piranhas. “Nevergoing to happen.”

Pollypats him on the shoulder. “God, no.I’veseen how that goes at home.Pleasedon’t ever do it in public.”

Shehas a point.Thelast timeIsawMaxdance,Ithought he was suffering a medical emergency.

“Polly’sright,”Rosesays and smiles affectionately asMomandDadbow and curtsy to their applauding audience. “Let’shope we’re all lucky enough to end up so happy after all those years.”

She’sright.AndI’msure it wasn’t always easy for them.Lordknows we had some tough times, but they are definitely something to aspire to.IpullRosein a little tighter.

Elliottakes a slurp of beer and pushes his glasses up his nose. “How’sall the art stuff going?”

Roserubs my back and speaks beforeIcan. “Oh, myGod.I’mso proud of him.”

Thethought that anyone would ever be proud of me, let alone the most amazing and beautiful womanI’veever known, still surprises me every day.

“Well, you know,”Itell him. “Ihave days whereIthink it’s great and days whereIthinkI’velost my mind and will never get a decent enough portfolio together to get into a good program.”

Roseplaces her hand on my chest. “Ipromise you,Elliot, his ‘Isuck’ days are starting to have bigger gaps between them.Let’scount that as a win.”

Theband stops playing.

“Allright, ladies and gentlemen,” the singer says. “It’sthat time of the evening whereIhand over the mic—only temporarily, of course—to the two people who have made this whole evening and this whole beautiful pub happen.”Shethrows her arm out to the side. “Pleasewelcome the brilliant, talented, and, it has to be said, outrageously good-looking creators of this fine establishment—WalkerandEmily.”

“He’dlook a lot better if he shaved off that mangled dead animal clinging to his chin,”Maxmutters.

Pollyshushes him as we all clap.Iput my beer down on the bar soIcan stick my fingers in my mouth and whistle.Myhands have a slight tremor at the thought of what’s to come.

Walkerstands back to letEmilytake the microphone from the singer.

“Firstthing’s first,” she says. “Let’sshow this amazing band some appreciation.PippaLaneand thePippettes, everyone.”