Page 50 of Picking Daisies on Sundays

I never tried drama or theater in school, but I didn’t need to fool anyone with my performance because this simply wasn’t a performance. Every touch, every breath, every look he gave me made my heart slam against my rib cage. The way his thumb roamed my back with just short movements made my eyes roll back. It felt scandalous to do something so intimate in front of so many people.

There was no way he couldn’t feel the tremor of my heartbeat against his chest.

“I was talking about you,” he whispered suddenly.

“What?” I whispered, rearing my head back to look at him.

“The girl I was talking to earlier—while you were with Sandra and then Ethan. I was talking about you. She was a student in one of the classes I TA’ed. Apparently, she switched majors to study fashion. I was telling her about you.”

My heart was pounding against the rock of reality I kept over it. Embarrassment was the best way to describe how I felt. Flattered was the second-best way to describe how I felt. And yet

all I could suffice was an, “Oh.”

He had been talking about me, and I had made an assumption and thenyelled at himthe way my 8thgrade English teacher would. How was I supposed to form an apology that would be appropriate enough to encapsulate how much I messed up?

“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t me that apologized though, it was Levi. I looked up at him in surprise as he continued to speak. “I didn’t mean to abandon you like that. You were talking to a friend, and the student had just seen me and said hi and then I mentioned you and…I got carried away.”

From the curve of his lips to the pocket of stress between his brows, he looked wholeheartedly apologetic and genuine. As ifI, of all people, was not going to accept his apology. I didn’t even want to be mad at him for the way he spoke to Ethan, but he had crossed a line.

But trying to be upset at him as his hands remained on exposed areas of my body was impossible.

He looked conflicted as he glanced down at me.

In moments, he was releasing me to spin me, and then just as quickly, he was bringing me back in, pressing my back against his front. The way his hand tightened on the edges of my hips, and how easily they found a home on my waist; all other thoughts became lull in my mind because all I could think about were those hands.

I've tried to never let my mind go there—to think about what Levi's hands could do below my waist. I wouldn’t be able to function appropriately around him if I did. And the more I heard his shuddering breaths in my ear and felt his dominating grasp on my waist like he owned it—itwas all I can think about.

“I think they’re watching,” I whispered, not feeling confident enough to speak at full volume, fearful that I possibly lost my voice from all this thought.

And, God, his response could have undone me right there.

“Let them watch,” he whispered back.

I itched to turn my head just enough to see his face. I needed

to know if this was having even a fraction of an effect on him that it was having on me.

Our feet followed each other slowly to the music. Every step we made together, I felt more confident in my next. I moved my hand up his shoulder to the collar of his jacket, and then to the back of his neck. I could only imagine all of the women that had put their hands there. I was getting a glimpse into something that wasn’t mine.

“You look beautiful, Daniella.” I almost tripped. Anytime I heard my full name from him, I knew he was serious. While he usedDanifor every day, casual purposes, and thenDaisyfor… Well, the use of my middle name only appeared in rare moments now.

But it was all for show. The truths I thought I used to know were tearing at the seams.

“You don’t need to say that. Bella can’t hear you.”

He stopped instantly, confusion and frustration passing over his face. “I—No,” his eyes narrowed, aghast. “I would never say something like that to you for,” he stumbled to find his words with such surprise, “for some performance. I mean it, you are beautiful. You always were.”

My bones were humming with energy. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and scoffed. “You need to stop apologizing

for what you say.” He took a breath. The only reason I was still standing was his hand on my back and his feet in between mine grounding me. “I wanted to tell you that you looked beautiful because you are. I knew I wouldn’t miss you when you walked in tonight because you’reyou. You’re so physically enthralling, let alone when you speak. And when you speak, all of the light in the room comes from you. You’re absolute sunshine and spring. I could watch you speak—”

“I need some air,” I said tightly with the last stable breath I had before moving out of his grasp and away from the ballroom.

23

intimacy was to be seen by you; free falling was to