The now arriving others, as Leila does the rounds forcing couples this way are soon starting to
surround us, and I try my hardest to relax, tell myself this will not be that bad, that I can endure this. I
turn towards him when he draws me to the middle and hesitate, swallowing hard, breathing harder
when faced with his body edging against mine and don’t know how else to play this, except look
completely out of my depth.
“Relax. It’s just a dance, sure Christian won’t mind.” Arrick says flatly, looking over my head as though
watching people come onto the floor behind us. I guess he can see or sense my tension. My
expression must be one of shell shock. We stand awkwardly for a moment before he slides his hand to
my waist and tugs me into him, softly and slowly. Lifting his free hand and offering it to me, so I get the
choice if I want to touch him again or not. I take it without even thinking about it, then stare dumbly at
the way my hand fits so delicately in his, like it always did. It hurts me inside, in so many ways, and I
bite on my lip to curb the urge to cry. To feel so right and so familiar this way, yet we are now worlds
apart.
I assume the pose of waltzing, placing a hand in his and the other on his shoulder, turning my face
away as I lean into him, so I can at least not look at him. His cheek comes down beside mine, gently
against my temple, sending another wave of butterflies through me, as he starts swaying me in time to
the music. It’s not the first time he’s danced this way with me, pretty much every party we ever went to
together we danced like this, more than a fair share of times. Just none of them felt as awful as this
does. It’s agony!
Held against him, feeling his body so perfectly slotted against mine, surrounded by the smell of him, the
way he makes me feel when submissive to his movements. I have to bite down to hold it all in, remind
myself how angry at him I should be. Find that inner fire of self-worth to keep my shit together, because
at the end of the day… He let me go, and the last thing he will ever deserve is my heartache. My heart
constricts, but that inner defiant me jumps up to slap it down, shaking myself back to the reality that he
does not deserve my tears.
As much as I love him, he no longer deserves any part of me. He fucked this up, not me.
“How’s school? How’s life?” Arrick says softly, right into my ear, huskily close and crazily sexy. I close
my eyes, trying to not feel the devastation that deep tone gives me or the way my skin tingles in
response to hearing it right against me. I missed his voice.
“Good … I am doing really well. My tutors seem to love me and I’m making friends … real ones.” I try to
focus on the swaying motions and small steps we’re taking in time to the music, not his expanse of
chest or submersion into his familiar hold, aware of the crowd of dancers around us now and the
cameraman flitting around in a bid to capture everyone. His touch destroys me.
I catch sight of Jake and Emma nearby, nose to nose as Jake says something to her, eyes glued to
hers and she’s smiling. Every bit infatuated by him as she has always been, her face glowing with
sheer adoration. To me, they are the perfect example of when love goes right, and it just makes me feel
even lonelier at this moment. She looks tiny compared to him, but he effortlessly seems wrapped
around her, protectively caring of the love of his life and oblivious to anything else when she is in his
arms.
Daniel and Leila are further back, swaying. Leila’s arms around his neck, gazing at one another cutely
as his hands slide around her waist, before being firmly planted on her butt as he pulls her pelvis in
against him a little more snugly. He leans in and kisses her softly, despite the sexual pose it’s clear they
are as blatantly smitten as Emma and Jake, in their own way, and I realize I am surrounded by couples
who all found their other halves so easily. The only pairing on this floor with no romantic connection is
Arry and me and it hits me in the stomach like a blow.
I turn back to Arrick, aching with the number of real couples around me, spying Giovanni and Sylvana
and even my mom and dad off to the side. Everyone seems so happy and look so right together. It’s
like being stabbed in the chest multiple times repeatedly, while looking up at the one guy I stupidly
pinned those hopes on. His cheek is still against my temple, so all I see is perfect male throat and that
up close smooth skin of a clean-shaven man. My insides wrench themselves into a knot, as a wave of
pain hits me hard in the chest and I have to combat my reaction with every ounce of will power I can
muster.
Why did you have to hurt me?
“I’m happy for you, Mimmo, really. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. No matter how you got
there.” Arrick pulls back to look me in the eye but I feel it coming and look away, so torn emotionally
with that statement and the fact he is still calling me that. Fragile and devastated on so many levels.
A part of me wants to forgive him and go back to how we were, like none of it ever happened and just
have him back in my life. Yet that broken part of me who is still hopelessly in love with him holds onto
anger and pain, and right now, he makes me want to throat punch him for being this dumb. Always my
most volatile when in pain, and right here, held in his arms, is the same as being tortured slowly.
“I am.” I bite back flatly. Deadpan in my tone and expression. Not wanting him to ever see again how
much he broke me and tell myself I will never let him close enough to ever do it again, even if it kills me
to never be close to him again. He sighs and goes back to leaning his jaw against my temple, adjusts
his hold on me and continues dancing in time to the soft music. We seem to fall into silence, both lost in
thought for a long while as the music continues with other couples around us. I go back to watching the
people around us and try to block out his touch, ignore his presence while the lyrics to possibly the
most agonizing song play around us.
Listening to the words is the only thing I can seem to do to take my mind off the way he is expertly
moving me around, lost in his control and unable to do anything about it. Trying hard not to find
anything in them to relate in any way and sway in time to the slow beat.
“There’s so much I want to say to you …” Arrick says it so quietly, so unexpectedly as the song nears
the end, my stomach turn over, glancing up instinctively and catching the sad look he is giving me, the
way his embrace gets subtly tighter. For once, a genuinely unguarded glimpse of real emotion from
him. With furrowed brows and his gaze locked on me with a look of sheer regret that physically wounds
my heart. My already frayed emotions can barely handle it and I have to breathe in heavily to push
down the torrent of tears working up in my chest, I clear my throat to cover it and fumble at any sort of
response.
Then the moment is broken as couples begin clapping as the song ends and we break apart to join in
awkwardly, aware that the moment is gone. I look around, anywhere but at him, in a bid to get myself
and my emotions under control. Head crazily whirring at what I should feel or even say, I know his eyes
are on me, I can feel them burning into my profile, but I cannot look back at him. I’m too afraid to show
him any hint of weakening resolve. So close to tears, so very close to sobbing and throwing myself at
him to make it all better. He opens up every vulnerable part of me and pulls the rug from under my feet.
I can’t let him though, and there is nothing he can say to make anything about this right, ever again.
Where he’s concerned, the wall is up, and he never gets to hurt me again; I am battling my own will to
build it faster. He doesn’t get to see how he affects me, and he doesn’t get to know that I still even care.
I will die before I let him know that I still love him.
Once burned. Twice doesn’t get to happen.
Christian bursts in before Arrick can say anything else, despite looking like he’s trying to find the words.
Throwing his arms around my shoulders from behind and kissing me on the cheek by the ear in a
rather sloppy way. I try to shrug off the wet slobbery kisses as I catch Arrick frowning and turning away,
that Carrero death glare making a real play on his face. He looks out across the room behind him,
catching Nathan’s eye and walks off towards him without another word. I watch him go, knowing this is
out of character for him; being so rude as to walk off without even a goodbye or a hello to my friend. It
goes against all his normal good grace and manners, that he is famed for. I grit my teeth to push
everything down and throw on my winning smile as I turn to Chris. Acting like this hasn’t bothered me in
the slightest and hoping he didn’t notice how rude Arry just was. Jenny strolls up towards us, from the
direction of Nathan with a beaming smile and rosy glow to her cheeks.
“You both look sexy.” I smile, taking in the boy in the black James Bond tuxedo, crisp shirt and bow tie
and the girl in the clingy red dress who looks a million dollars and most worthy of some Hollywood red
carpet. No wonder Nathan was keeping her all to himself tonight, she is looking very sassy and sexual
with very minimal effort.
“You did say dress to impress as this was a glam do.” Jenny smiles, fingering the detailing on my silver
dress, it’s knee-length and flapper style with lots of layered sequin and fringing, a high bodice with thin
straps, and scoop back. I’ve gone for sexy, sparkly and yet modest. School has taught me a lot about
fashion in such a brief time, and less is sometimes, most definitely more. Except where sequins are
involved; then you can never have enough.
“We three look like we could take the town by storm!” Christian announces, hands on hips and a little
wiggle as though to make his point. He’s clearly had a few to drink and he is losing his macho guy act,
thankfully. I prefer him like this; this is who he is, who I adore, and I don’t like the pretend cuddling up
with him either. I don’t care if Arrick knows anymore. I am getting so tired of the whole charade and
how awkward it makes me feel. I want everyone to relax and be who they are, stop watching over our
shoulders and get on with a good night.
“I hope to just get through a family party without drama or major drunken antics, thank you very much. I
am still living in repentance for two years of making my parents crazy, and my sister will undoubtedly
make an ass of herself tonight.” I dismiss the offer of another glass of champagne as a waitress comes
by with a tray. Not really in the party and get hammered mood right now. Christian frowns and picks up
a glass on my behalf shoving it into my hands.
“Hell no, we three are letting our hair down and having a blowout night. We have been good as gold in
the last ten weeks of school and I have never been trashed with either of you! That is my aim tonight!
Drink up bitches, we are going to partyyy!” Christian raises his glass and downs it in one go. Looking at
me with a very serious look of a challenge in those naughty eyes.
“Christian, I really …” I object, but Jenny throws her Bambi expression my way with a sudden injection
of serious frown and wet eyes on show.
“Please, Sophie. I need this. Mark and I broke up before I left, and I just want to forget everything for
one night.” Jenny’s eyes fill with more moisture as both Christian and I snap eyes on her. Completely
gobsmacked.
“What? Since when?” We gasp in unison, equally shocked by this sudden revelation. She had not said
a single thing or has even appeared even slightly upset in the last two days of being with us. I am
shocked that she didn’t tell her two best friends before now.
I guess this is how she is though; she can be infuriatingly like someone I don’t dare mention, in that she
plays a lot close to her chest and downplays everything as though she appears unaffected.
“It’s been on the cards for a long while, we are never really together and it’s taking its toll. He just
doesn’t seem to care. Please … I don’t want to talk about this; can we just have a good night and leave
all man talk right here on the floor?” She looks to us both with pleading eyes and a hint of desperation.
Knowing her as I do, I know she will be happier if we leave her to talk about this in her own time and do
as she asks. I lean in and hug her, feeling like she really should have told me though, as Christian pats
her shoulder as though she were a puppy.
“Three musketeers babes, we shall drop all man chat, although we can ogle all these sexy butts. I
mean how many good-looking men can you get in two families? Woof woof!” He’s almost breaking his
neck to watch the progression of two Carrero relatives walking by in all their tall dark-haired glory, with
sexy square shoulders and that hint of Jake and Arrick about them. He has a point. I notice Alexi
Carrero, one of the cousins, sauntering by with a glass in each hand as he heads towards Arry and
Nathan in the corner and catch a smile directed my way. I smile back and give him a girly wave, like
most of the cousins I know them all, they are all equally as swoon some. Alexi is one I have actually
spent time with and he’s lovely if a bit proper and reserved.
The Carreros are gorgeous as a family, and the Huntsbergers are equally blessed. I look over, catching
my brother Ben’s eye and gaining a loving smile; Rylanne behind him in all his blonde gorgeousness
too. I smile back affectionately and give them a little finger wave of affection. I only see them as
brothers, but to someone like Christian, they are major eye candy and I suppose, drool-worthy.
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