“Also dangerous if you’re not used to them,” he warns.
“Please. I’m not some amateur.” I take a bigger sip.
“My phone died. Can I borrow yours to text my buddy?”
I hesitate, my fingers tightening around my clutch. But Dennis is staring at me expectantly, and I didn’t want to make the moment awkward.
“Sure,” I say, fishing out my phone and handing it over. “I should probably find my friends too. They’re around here somewhere.”
Dennis takes it with a quick nod, his fingers moving rapidly across the screen. He angles my phone away as he types before handing it back with a grin. “Thanks. Guess it’s the night of disappearing friends.”
“Tell me about it.” I sigh, glancing around the crowded bar.
The room begins to feel warm. Dennis slides to my side of the booth, thigh pressing against mine. “Couldn’t hear you over there.”
I take another sip and lean back. “You know what’s crazy?” Words tumble out. “Most girls my age are living it up, dating around, but I’m marrying my high school boyfriend. What kind of boring life choice is that?”
“You tell me,” Dennis says, his voice a pleasant rumble.
“Look at my parents, for instance. They were together throughout high school and then had me. When I was ten, they suddenly decided they shouldn’t be together. They stayed together all those years because I anchored them.” I turn to face him, our faces inches apart. “What if I’m marrying Connor because I’m accustomed to him? He’s all I know.”
His gaze drops to my lips. “I want to kiss you.”
A forbidden excitement runs through me. “What?”
He leans in, pressing his mouth to mine. His lips are soft, tasting of white Russian. My hands move to his arms, feeling firm muscle beneath his shirt. I kiss him back, curiously.
Then reality crashes in like ice water.
I pull back, horrified. “I’m engaged.”
“You’re not married yet,” he whispers.
His lips find mine again. I wait for fireworks, butterflies and earth-moving justification.
Nothing. Not just nothing, but a terrifying absence of the very newness I’d foolishly chased.
The kiss leaves me completely cold. I pull away, stomach lurching violently as reality crashes down.
What have I done?
Meesha
Winter Bay looks exactlyas I left it four days ago—snow still piled in dirty heaps along the sidewalks, the lakefront barely visible through winter’s haze. As the Uber turns onto Connor’s street, I immediately spot his sleek Olympus Titan in the driveway, its metallic finish reflecting the mid-morning winter light.
I smile despite my anxiety, remembering how he surprised me with my midnight-blue Olympus Nyx last birthday. It was a perfect complement to his larger SUV.
“His and hers Olympus vehicles,” he’d said with that crooked smile. “Yours is smaller and more efficient, just like you.”
The driver pulls up to the curb, and I gather my luggage. After stepping out into the crisp air, I tap the “5 stars” rating and exit the app just as my phone buzzes with a text from Jasmine.
Home safe. Text when you can. Have fun with your man!
The pulsing anxiety in my chest only intensifies. We switched to an earlier flight, but neither Jessa nor Jasmine seemed disappointed to cut our trip short. In fact, they both seemed oddly eager to get home, lost in their own thoughts during the entire flight.
A flash of crimson catches my eye—a cardinal perched on a branch of the tree in Connor’s front yard. I pull out my phone to capture it, holding my breath as I zoom in.
Just as I snap the photo, the bird takes flight, leaving a perfect streak of red against the white backdrop. I smile at the image, grateful for the momentary distraction.
