“You too. We’re sitting over there with friends if you want to join us.” She points at a rowdy table of people who are laughing and boozing it up. Their behavior is a little more raucous than I’m used to at these parties.
“Uh, sure,” I reply. “Okay.” It’ll be good to hide from Mom and Dad in plain sight. I follow them over to the table, where Jack makes introductions. I already knew Colton Bradford, the mayor’s son, but I haven’t met his girlfriend Kelsey before. Nor have I met any of their other friends. All of the girls are beautiful and seem happy. Along with Jack and Colton, there’s one other clean-cut boy, Rory, and his girlfriend Vanessa, but the fourth guy—Jeremiah—has his hair pulled back in a half ponytail and his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off three circle tattoos on his forearm. He reminds me of one of my favorite soccer players, Graham Zusi. His arm is lazily draped across the back of his date Annie’s chair.
If Mom catches me sitting with Jeremiah, she’ll probably insist I get a tetanus shot. Still, I’m jealous of the way he can’t take his eyes off Annie. It makes me want a guy I can trust. One who will worship me.
Jack himself has always been Mr. Manners, so it surprises me when he kisses Savannah’s neck in front of everybody and sips clear liquor from a cocktail glass. When he was dating my sister, I always found him a little vanilla for my taste, but I quite like this Jack, who’s telling raunchy jokes with the other guys, obviously trying to piss off the girls.
“What do you call a bad circumcision?” Jack asks. “A rip-off!”
“Ugh, you are so cut off,” Savannah says, stealing the cocktail out of his hand. Then she downs it in a single gulp, which makes everybody laugh, including me. I don’t know these people, but it is nice to just chill out.
Jack plays with Savannah’s red hair as he asks me, “So how’s Jenna doing?”
“She’s good. She’s planning to spend next year abroad at the London School of Economics.”
“Wow,” Jack says, clearly impressed. “Tell her I said hi.” He suddenly turns his attention to something over my shoulder. “Carmichael!”
I twirl around in my chair. Ezra. Of course he’d be here. When I was fifteen and wanted to see him every second of every day, I rarely did, and now he’s everywhere. Stupid karma.
But boy, has karma been good to Ezra Carmichael. He’s wearing a tailored dark-gray suit with a white dress shirt. The top two buttons are undone, showing off a warm tan patch of skin. Seeing it makes my own skin heat right up.
“Hey, Jack,” Ezra says. “Can I borrow Tee from you all?”
“Of course,” Jack replies. “But let’s talk later. I want to hear about the colt I sold your father.”
A dark look crosses Ezra’s face, but he quickly recovers. “You bet.”
“I want to talk to you later too,” I tell Jack, copying Ezra’s businesslike voice. “Well, actually I just want to see your dogs.”
Jack smiles. “We have a new yellow lab puppy.”
I squeal softly, which seems to make Ezra happy. He holds out a hand to me. “Taylor. Want to dance?”
Our first dance should’ve been at my sixteenth birthday party.
“I can’t,” I reply. “I’m eating my shrimp right now.”
“I like this girl,” Jeremiah says with a grin.
Ezra, however, slowly lowers his hand, taken aback by my refusal. “I can wait until you’re finished.”
“Fine,” I say, rolling my eyes, even though my heart is fluttering. Ezra goes back to talking with Jack.
“Is he your boyfriend?” Annie whispers to me.
“No, I have a boyfriend named Ben—” I catch myself, shaking my head. “Why would you think that?”
“The way he was staring at you…it was intense. He’s hot, by the way.”
“Don’t remind me,” I groan.
Ezra patiently waits while I eat, like, seven jumbo shrimp. To be honest, I start to feel bloated and gross, but I have to eat them all on principle. When I’m finished eating the entire ocean, he extends his hand again, asking me to dance.
I take a good long look at it and think back to a couple years ago, when we sat on a couch together watching a movie and those fingers played with my hair. If I had gotten some guts and leaned over and kissed him right then, would my life have turned out differently, for better or worse?
He leads me to the dance floor, where he sets one hand on my hip and eases me into a fluid foxtrot. He’s very good; Mrs. Carmichael probably made Ezra start taking dance lessons in preschool, like Mom did with Oliver. Dancing to the brass band, I feel like I’m in a glamorous, old-timey movie.
Give me a feather boa already.
We dance in silence for several beats until Ezra speaks. “I’m not supposed to be here.”
“Neither am I.”
“Then why are you?”
“The food,” I say, making him smile. “Why aren’t you supposed to be here?”
“My parents are pissed at me. They told me not to come.”
I push his chest. “Get out. Dad said the same thing!”
“I bet they’re regretting it now,” Ezra whispers. “We’re the best dancers here.”
I’ve been concentrating on Ezra so intently, I didn’t notice the small crowd watching us dance.
The trumpet slides into a high note as his hand moves from my hip to my lower back, his palm big and warm against my bare skin. He’s a great dancer. Smooth, but not showy. I’m really enjoying it, and I can tell by his smile that he is too.
No matter what I told myself, I knew my heart wasn’t over him, but I’m still disappointed in Ezra. Angry, even. He ditched my party to hook up with another girl, as if it was any ole Saturday night, and he never admitted it to my face.
I turn my gaze away from him to find my dad standing with Mr. Carmichael. Both men are glaring at us.
“I’m gonna be in trouble,” I say, pulling away from Ezra.
His warm hands keep a tight hold on me. “The song’s not over.”
“You never told me why you came tonight.”
He smirks. “For the shrimp.”
I slap his chest. “Don’t make fun of me. That shrimp was great. But for real, why did you come?”
He hesitates, looking away from my gaze and out toward the barns in the distance. “I thought coming home was the best thing for me, but all my friends are gone.”
I can understand why he’s lonely. St. Andrew’s is a boarding school, and kids came from all over the country. Steph’s family is originally from London and now lives in New York City, while Madison is from San Fran. When Ezra’s class graduated, his classmates all went to college or abroad or back home.
“So you wanted to see who’d be at this party?” I ask.
“No, I figured you might be here.”
What does that mean? He wants to be friends? He’s so desperate for company he sought me out at a party where our parents are hanging out?
He pulls me a little closer. It’s intimate, the way his fingers gently caress my lower back. His green eyes meet mine. For so long, this was my dream—that he would hold me. Dance with me. Maybe even love me. But I’m not willing to risk getting hurt again. It took forever to get over Ezra the first time.
I leave his arms. “I need to go.”
Without another look at Ezra, I rush off the dance floor, spotting Dad in the middle of a group of men. We make eye contact, and all he does is shake his head.