Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
“I was so short in grade nine,” Dallas comments as we stop at the picture of the school hockey team.
“By the time you hit grade eleven, you towered over everyone.” I tap the photo of the team two years later, where Dallas is a head taller than almost all the others. He’s present in so many of these photos. He was part of everything, always the center of attention. Always wanted. Always belonging.
“I was so awkward that year. All limbs and no freaking coordination,” he muses. “Should we go in? We can always make a run for it.” Dallas inclines his head to the gym doors, which are framed by another balloon arch in school colors and a banner that reads WELCOME, TIMBERWOLVES!
“Let’s do this.” I’m ready to conquer my past and then leave it where it belongs.
We’re spotted as soon as we cross the threshold. “Bright? Hey, my man! I was wondering when you’d get here!” A guy whose name I can’t remember, but whose face is vaguely familiar, approaches.
I stand back while they go in for back pats.
“Wilhelmina?” Gentle fingers touch my arm, and I turn toward the familiar voice.
“Dorie?”
“Hi! It’s been so long!” We throw our arms around each other. She’s a life preserver in rough waters.
Dorie and I were on student council together all through high school. Most of our friendship happened inside these walls, as she lived forty-five minutes away by bus, and she and Brooklyn didn’t get along.
She smiles at me with fondness as we part. “It’s so good to see you. Congratulations!” Her gaze cautiously darts to Dallas who is now surrounded by at least half a dozen people, all chatting and laughing. “I have to admit, I was a little surprised by this development.”
“I think we all were,” I reply, forcing my smile to stay in place.
She’s one of the few people who knew about my massive, years-long crush on Sean and how hurt I’d been when Brooklyn went with him to prom. “But you’re happy with him?”
I nod, realizing it’s the truth. “Absolutely. How about you? What have you been up to? You’re a lawyer now, right?”
“That’s right. I moved out to Midland and set up a practice there.”
As we chat, more of my former classmates join the group. All the people I was on student council with come to say hi. I haven’t seen most of them since we graduated. When I left Huntsville, I traded small town living for the city and went to university in Toronto, and I’ve only ever been back to visit my moms.
As promised, the only time Dallas leaves my side is to get me a drink. I get sucked into a one-sided conversation with a former classmate about astrophysics, and Dallas saves me.
“So sorry to interrupt, but this is our song,” Dallas says with an apologetic smile. He holds out his hand, and I slip mine in his, excusing us.
He guides me to the dance floor, his lips at my ear. “Your eyes were glazing over.”
“I was trying to stay engaged, but in my head, I was making a grocery list.”
He keeps hold of one hand and the other settles on my waist.
“So this is our song, huh?”
“Be glad it isn’t ‘Stairway to Heaven,’ or you’d get to feel my hard-on for eight minutes instead of three.” His eyebrows wag.
I roll my eyes. “You do not have a hard-on.”
“You underestimate the power you have in this dress, honey.” He pulls me tight against him, and I feel the evidence of his arousal.
“How long have you been like this?”
“Since the moment I saw you in it.”
“That was hours ago.”
“It ebbs and flows.”
“That’s a long time to be in such a heightened state.” And frankly, pretty damn flattering. “Isn’t that uncomfortable?”
Dallas shrugs. “It’s pretty much my constant state when I’m around you. It’s a small price to pay to have the pleasure of your company.” He turns his head, giving me his profile, and brings my hand to his lips.
If that weren’t true, why would he say it? What would he have to gain? I change the subject because it’s the safe thing to do. “It’s nice to see some of the people I hung out with in high school. Although my friend group was smaller than yours.”
“Eh, I had a lot of acquaintances and not a lot of close friends who mattered in the long run.” He sounds more resigned than I would have imagined.
“How do you feel about that? I thought you had all these close friendships. Best friends forever and all that.”
“What I thought was important when I was eighteen isn’t what’s important to me now.” His voice trails off as the song changes. “Have you seen our favorite couple tonight?”
I shake my head. “It’s only a matter of time, I’m sure.” We won’t get through the night without at least one unfortunate interaction. Part of me wants to get it over with. But the part who still feels like that betrayed, heartbroken girl, is afraid of how much any real conversation with Brooklyn will make me hurt all over again.