Page 116 of The Outsider
“So kind of you,” he said, amused.
We were quiet for a moment, listening to the music as we swayed gently. John’s eyes never left my face, shining with sweet contentment, and the corners of his mouth curved upward. He was perfectly at ease—a rare thing in the last few months—and was only more handsome for it.
“You look beautiful,” he said in a low, husky tone. “I haven’t seen you in a dress since the day we met.”
“Hardly a dress by that point, was it?” I replied wryly. “Just a tatter of dirty fabric.”
The corners of his mouth ticked upward. “True. At least this time, it won’t be a group of maneaters ripping it off you.”
I gave him a scandalized look.
“You’re not ripping anything! This is the only dress I own, and it’s staying fully intact.”
“We’ll get you another,” John said, his gaze moving to my lips. “As many as you want. I like seeing you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like you feel pretty,” he said with a warm smile. “You carry yourself differently. More confident, less shy.”
Of course, that made my cheeks redden, and he chuckled. I moved my hand from his shoulder to caress along his jaw with my fingertips. His grip on my other hand loosened, and we stopped swaying.
“Kiss me,” I said softly.
John lowered his lips to mine. The pressure was gentle, the kiss initially chaste, but it quickly turned hungrier as his hand moved from my lower back into my hair. He nipped my bottom lip playfully, teasing me, and I remembered we were in public just in time to suppress a quiet moan. The whole world seemed to fall away when he kissed me like this—sweet, but with an undercurrent of desire and a promise of more that made me feel weak-kneed.
I only realized that the song had ended when we broke apart, a little breathless.
“Hey Johnny, you too busy swapping saliva to hang out with your buddies?” Danny called, and I cringed a little, embarrassed. He stood over in a distant corner of the hall, drink in hand, next to Jonah and the oldest Armstrong son, Matthew.
John flashed me a sheepish grin.
“I better go mingle, or he’ll never shut up,” he said apologetically. “He’s even more…Danny when he’s a bit drunk.”
A new, livelier tune started playing, and Danny mimed a ridiculous dance move, swaying precariously.
I giggled. “That’s alright. I need the bathroom anyway.”
“Do you want me to walk you out?” he asked, glancing at the back exit. “It’s dark.”
I shook my head and pecked his lips.
“I’ll be fine, darling. Go have fun with your friends.”
As John made his way over to a clearly inebriated Danny, I went to gather my coat for the trek to the outhouse. I spotted Kimmy chatting away with Jenna in the opposite corner, standing next to Asha. Asha was tight-lipped as usual, but for once, she was actually smiling. It didn’t take me long to understand why: Kimmy was holding her handin a loose grip and stroked her arm absently while talking. Where everyone could see.
Well, that’s new.
Heading out the back exit, a rush of frigid air stole the breath from my lungs. I hugged my coat more tightly around me and trudged toward the somewhat forlorn-looking outhouse. A single small lamp hung from a hook next to the door, illuminating the way. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it was a good fifty feet from the back door. The snow drifts and biting cold made it feel like a thousand.
To my surprise, inside was relatively clean and had an electric light. The composting toilet was not as horrible as I’d expected. Someone had left a bottle of homemade hand sanitizer on a tiny shelf, which made it feel a little less pioneer-esque. Still, I would continue to treasure the return of indoor plumbing to my life.
I pushed open the heavy wooden door to return to the Lodge. Suddenly, it swung open, pulled from the other side.
“John, I’m f—”
I froze. Zach Jameson stood in the doorway, his frame outlined by the light of the lamp. His mouth was twisted into a malicious little smile.
“Sorry to disappoint,” he said, amused.
