“Uh…” My mouth opens, but all that comes out is a nervous chuckle, knowing all eyes are on me.
“Come on, please?” He gives me big puppy dog eyes.
I lift my hands, shrugging. “Sure.” I laugh, taking it from him.
The room cheers, and he laughs as he heads back to the stage, tossing the mic up at his coach.
The coach gives out a few other awards, Brady being the only freshman to receive one, and then the lights dim, the music growing a little louder.
Chase turns to me, extends a hand, and nods toward the dance floor.
“No one is dancing yet.”
“So.” His smile is bright. “I want to dance with you, and I don’t want to wait.”
Warmth spreads through me, and I push to my feet. Chase’s grin widens as he takes my hand, leading me to the center of the floor.
He spins me, making me laugh, and a blush rushes to my cheeks as I peek around to find several sets of eyes on us, some not as friendly as I’d have hoped. My muscles tense a bit, and Chase shakes his head.
He leans in, pressing his cheek to my face as he whispers, “Ignore them.” He pulls back, his palm gliding around my body, his right hand clasped with mine, but drawn in at our sides. His soft green eyes hold mine as his lips part, and he presses them against my knuckles. “You’re beautiful, Arianna. So beautiful.” His tone drops even lower and my chest clenches from the sound.
A few others join us on the dance floor, but I don’t pay them any mind.
I stay focused on the man before me.
“I used to dream of things like this,” I admit. “Dancing with you, holding on to you…”
His forehead falls to mine, and my eyes close.
“It’s all I’ve been thinking about,” he confesses. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever get the chance. I was a fool before, but no more. I’d choose you over anyone, Ari. No matter what. I’d choose you.”
My stomach dips, and I bury my face in his neck, inhaling his scent.
It’s sweet and peppery, subtle.
Where’s the cedar wood and sage, the minty breeze?
My lids open, a frown building along my brow, but then Chase’s hand leaves mine, and his soft palm falls against my cheek.
Where’s the rough texture, the heated skin?
I pull back slightly, and his eyes lock with mine.
“Ari,” he whispers, slipping closer, and my chest seizes.
But I can’t tell if it’s in anticipation or apprehension.
It’s confusing, and it aches, but maybe it aches for him?
For us.
For more.
So when his eyes fall to my lips, I lift my chin in invitation.
Chase’s mouth falls to mine, and my eyes close.
My heartbeat pounds hard against my rib cage, and he presses closer, his hand diving into my hair.
That’s when a sob breaks through me and I tug back, but before I’m forced to look at him, before he can say a word, my brother is there.
Mason slips between us, pulls me into his arms, and buries my head against his chest. He shields my face from the rest of the dance floor. I clutch his suit jacket, and he sways us slowly.
“It’s okay, honey,” he rasps, kissing my head. “It’s okay.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I’m crying.” I shudder, and his arms tighten. “I think it’s just overwhelming, you know? I’ve waited so long.”
Mason’s sigh rolls over me. “Yeah, I know.”
The pained frustration in his tone has me lifting my head. I swipe at my eyes and meet his.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Mason, what?” I beg. “What is it?”
His chin falls, and he shakes his head. “It’s really hard to stand back and let you lead. It scares me, that’s all.”
“That’s not all and you know it.” We stop moving. “Does it bother you to see me with him?”
“Not the way you’re used to.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“I know, but you won’t let me tell you what it does mean.” He reaches up, swiping at the edge of my eye and showing me the small black streak on the pad of his thumb. “It’s okay. Just promise me you’ll… move slow. Think things through before… anything.”
Pink darkens my cheeks, and I nod, a low chuckle leaving me. “I should probably go find my date, so he doesn’t think I’m crazy.”
“He knows better than that.” Mason’s lips pull to one side, and he releases me. “Go.”
With a deep breath, I nod, spinning on my heels.
To my surprise, Chase isn’t far, and he isn’t fazed. He waits for me, not fifteen feet away, champagne flutes in hand.
Biting at my lip, I step up to him, accepting the glass when he offers it. He quietly takes my hand, leading me to our table.
“Thank you for coming with me tonight.” He brushes his palm along my arm. “This shouldn’t have been our first dance. I should have taken you to the homecoming dance freshman year, and to every other one after that. I should have shown you how important you were to me a long time ago, and I want to make up for that,” he rasps, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. “Let me take you out this weekend. Just us.”