Page 228 of Bridesmaid Undercover
A lump immediately grows in my throat, and I can feel all the air escape my lungs because this is how much she affects me.
“May I have this dance?” she asks, holding her hand out.
Uh…is she serious?
She knows she’s askingme, right?
When I don’t answer right away, Maple nudges me. “Of course, he would love to dance with you.” And then she pushes me toward the dance floor.
Confused and nervous all at the same time, I turn toward Everly, unsure of how to handle this. “I, uh, I was giving you space,” I say awkwardly.
“I know,” she replies as she takes my hand in hers and wraps my arm around her waist. “But I’m not looking for space right now.”
What?
Before I can ask her what she means, she leads us in a gentle sway, her hand landing on my shoulder, near my neck.
So many thoughts, so many questions are running rapidly through my head, but for once, I don’t open my mouth because I don’t want to scare her away. I don’t want her to regret this decision to dance with me. Because I might not be able to have her, but I can at least have this small moment with her.
After a few seconds of swaying back and forth with her, I can feel her eyes land on me, peering up, looking for a return in her stare. On a deep breath, I look down, and when she smiles up at me, I become weak in the goddamn knees.
“Everly,” I say, my throat choking up, but I don’t get to finish my sentence because the music stops, and everyone starts clapping.
“The bar is open, and appetizers will be passed around. The bride and groom want you to mingle and enjoy,” the DJ says.
Sad the music is over, I let go of Everly and take a step away from her. “Uh…thanks for the dance.” I stick my hands in my pockets out of pure survival, because if I don’t, I can see myself grabbing her, pulling her into my chest and running my hands through her luscious hair.
“Hardy?” she says, taking a step forward, closing the space I put between us.
“Yes?” I gulp.
Her eyes search mine, and when she grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together, I try not to close my eyes from the feel of it, the connection I so desperately want. “Can we talk?”
I nod.Please, fuck, let this be a good talk.
She weaves us through the crowd and toward the front of the conservatory where the lobby opens up to public restrooms and a miniature fountain feature, which helps drown out the echo the tall ceilings and glass walls provide.
She tugs me over to the side, to a bench that is tucked in the corner, near an old gift shop that is now used as a coat check.
When we sit down, she turns toward me and takes both of my hands in hers.
Please let this be good.
Please, fuck, let it be good.
Her thumbs rub over my knuckles, and when those green eyes stare up at me, I can see my future. She’s in it. We’re wearing matching shirts, holding hands, and sharing a large chocolate cake that we have no intention of finishing, but are talking a big game about how we’re about to own the sugary confection. I see lazy mornings in my bed, late nights in her apartment sharing a meal, long conversations about nothing and everything. I can feel the love she gives me every day, the affection she bestows upon me, and the comfort in knowing that I have a partner in this life.
“Hardy,” she says, her voice sounding nervous.
“Yes?” I ask.
She wets her lips and says, “I was wondering if maybe, uh…you would like to go out on a date with me.”
All the air escapes my lungs as I tug her even closer. “Are you serious right now? Please don’t be joking—I don’t think my heart can take it.”
She smiles softly. “I’m not joking. I wouldn’t do that.”
“I mean, yeah, Everly. Of course. I…fuck, I want nothing more than to take you out, to…to have so much more with you. I…” I feel my words catch in my throat, my thoughts jumbling in my head out of pure excitement. “I didn’t think you were interested. I was…I was giving you space.”
