Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Good lord. I only stepped off the elevator a minute ago and already I’m having to focus on my breathing, commanding my pulse to remain steady.
What are these men doing to me?
Gabe’s fingers jolt within mine, drawing my attention.
He’s no longer looking at the bar. Instead his eyes are locked on a couple across the room. There’s no doubt the man is his brother, though there are obvious differences. Both of them are tall and husky, but Gabe is firmer. Packed tight in the muscle area. But after a moment of observation, it’s easy to see Gabe’s brother has a certain devil-may-care charisma that attracts people like flies to honey. Men slap him on the back as they pass by and he snaps out a greeting that makes them laugh every time. He’s loud and attention grabbing where Gabe is more of a strong, silent type.
The woman his brother is dancing with—presumably Gabe’s ex, Candace—enjoys the attention he draws. Basks in it even when she’s not directly addressed. There’s nothing wrong with liking attention. I like it, too, depending on the situation. But bottom line, if this woman was the one who hurt Gabe, we aren’t going to be friendly.
I didn’t wake up this morning and decide to act as a bodyguard for a man twice my size, but here we are.
Murmurs on all sides of us draw my notice. Eyes shift from one brother to the other, whispers are passed between sips of drinks. There are two very distinct groups in attendance. Men and women who look at ease in their finery. And construction types who seem very uncomfortable in their tuxedos. Half of them already have their bow ties dangling from their pockets. It’s that latter group splitting their attention between Gabe and his brother, watching to see what will happen. How he’ll react to his ex-wife and brother cozied up in public.
“Are you still in love with her?” I ask Gabe, surprised to find my stomach knotted.
“No.” He shakes his head. “No, I’m not sure I ever was. I think I…”
“What?” I prompt him after a few moments of silence.
“I got my growth spurt a lot earlier than my brother.” He ducks his head slightly and shakes his head, as if he can’t believe he’s telling me this. “Growing up, I was only called outside to play if the football got stuck in a tree. I had this broom handle I kept by the door, so I could dislodge the ball from between the branches. Then we got older and I started sneaking everyone into movies, claiming to be eighteen when I was only fourteen. The lady at the ticket counter knew we were full of shit, but she let us in anyway.” He tips his chin at the dancefloor. “And then one day, he was as tall as me. I wasn’t needed for anything and I didn’t…I wasn’t as quick with the comebacks and jokes. I just stayed out of the way, so I wouldn’t have to feel like I was…out of place, I guess.” Very briefly, his gaze flickers to the woman on the dancefloor, before finding my gaze. “It just felt good to be chosen. By someone. Maybe even anyone. Is that terrible?”
“No.” There’s a catch in my throat, so I clear it. “No, it’s not terrible. It’s human nature.”
He seems relieved by that assessment. “The mistake was mine, you know? I should have seen what was happening. Should have recognized my own weakness.” He pauses. “I need to take my broom handle and go inside. Let them be happy.”
“As long as you make yourself happy, too,” I say, tugging him toward the center of the ballroom. “Come on. Let’s dance.”
“Ah, Elise.” His fingers stiffen within mine. “I don’t know. I don’t really dance.”
I grin back at him. “You do tonight.”
He’s momentarily befuddled by my smile, opening his mouth and closing it. “Jesus, you’re so fucking pretty.”
“Thank you.” Oh dear. That tug in my chest is very ominous. “You’re very handsome. We sound like two people who ought to be dancing and enjoying themselves, don’t we?”
We pass through a group of men holding pilsner glasses of beer—construction types who watch us speculatively, not bothering to hide their smirks.
“Better keep your date away from your brother,” one of them snickers.
A chorus of laughs follows.
Gabe immediately tries to pull his hand out of mine, his jaw turning brittle. He’s obviously preparing to confront whoever made the comment, but I hold on tight to his hand, refusing to stop until we reach our destination.
“Look. I’m really not a dancer. All right? It’s enough just to have you here with me,” Gabe says, pulling roughly on his collar. “I don’t need to…to beat them.”
I draw him to a stop near the edge of the floor, somewhat in the shadows, noticing the way his Adam’s apple appears to be lodged beneath his chin. Being in the center of the room has caused a fine sweat to begin forming on his brow. “You’re right. We don’t have to beat them, but we’re not running, either.” I wind my arms up behind his neck, pressing my body in tight to his strength. “Take up space, Gabe.”