Stupid Love (Stumbling into Love 1)

Will stood, bent over, and kissed my forehead. It was the first time he’d ever done something like that to me. “Love you, brother. Now handle your shit before I kick your ass.”

Without another word, Will was gone.

I picked up my phone and called my mom. “I, um…I need Richie’s number.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Elijah

“Are you sure you want to do this, hermano?” Danny asked as he stood in his living room, wearing black slacks and a white dress shirt.

No, no I wasn’t sure about this at all. I wanted to never leave his apartment. I didn’t want to face my parents without Shaw because they would know we had already broken up—not that we were ever truly together. I wanted Shaw back and I wanted him to be my date but I was also still pissed as hell at him.

I didn’t reply with any of those things though. I answered, “Yes.” I wasn’t going to let my life stop because I was hurt, but oh, did my insides ache in a way they never had before. It had been days since I’d seen Shaw, since I’d told him to figure out what he wanted, and I couldn’t stop all these ridiculous visions running through my head. Stupid stuff like Shaw and a faceless Richie frolicking through flowers and shit. Maybe I was losing it a bit.

“What are you going to tell your parents about Shaw—whom I fucking hate again, by the way.”

I sighed. Of course he did. I expected nothing less. That didn’t stop me from saying, “Don’t hate him.” Because regardless, I knew Shaw wasn’t a bad man. He was sad and scared and confused, but no one saw those parts of him. I did, though. “I’m going to tell my parents that I don’t want to talk about it, that I’m an adult and they can’t make me!”

Danny didn’t laugh. “I’m sorry.”

I thought about Shaw, about the way he had looked at me the last time we were together. Not the fight, but in bed. His eyes on me, his hands on me, being inside him. I wanted so badly for him to fight his demons, to beat them, because I believed we belonged together. But I couldn’t slay his monsters for him. I hoped that if he did, it would be me he realized he loved.

“How do I look?” I asked Danny as I ran my hands down my light-pink dress shirt, straightening it out. I had it paired with black slacks, shirt tucked in, and dress shoes.

“Gorgeous, of course.” He winked and held his arm out for me.

I hooked mine through his, paused, and whispered, “I love him, D.”

“I know you do. The thing is, I’m pretty sure the fool feels the same. He just isn’t doing a very good job at showing it.”

I sighed. “Let’s go.”

He nodded, and we went. We took a car to the hotel where the event was taking place. They had reserved one of the ballrooms. My parents texted when we were almost there to let us know they arrived and were waiting outside for us. I rested my head against Danny’s shoulder, and as much as I loved Danny, my very best friend, I wished he were Shaw.

I saw my parents when we pulled up. Mom cocked her head slightly, giving me that mama-knows look, seeing me with Danny instead of Shaw. I probably should have told them ahead of time, but I’d hoped Shaw would show up, that he would tell me he had it figured out and he chose me.

I fought the hot tears burning behind my eyelids and plastered on a fake smile. I was thankful that neither of my parents asked about Shaw. They were great like that. They knew I would tell them when I was ready, but they did both hug me a little tighter, a little longer, and it made me think that Shaw didn’t have this. He didn’t grow up with the same relationship with his parents that I did.

“You guys look great,” Dad said.

“Obviously,” Danny teased, and everyone laughed but me.

We went inside, following the signs to the ballroom. A man in a tux was taking tickets at the door, and we handed ours over. It was lavish inside, with lots of reds and golds. Each round table had candles and flowers in the center. There was a stage in front, where Shaw and I were supposed to perform our dance. I’d called Susanne a few days before and let her know I didn’t have my dance partner. She’d asked if I wanted to perform with someone else, but I didn’t. I wanted to dance with Shaw.

“This is lovely!” Mom said as we found our table. Having been one of Susanne’s dancers, we were seated toward the front.

The three of them chatted, and I tried to stay engaged but couldn’t. This felt weird without Shaw there with me. It was only because of him that I’d taken the class in the first place, that I was dancing ballet again too. How did he not see how much he had to offer?