by Noelle Adams
She walked away after that since there was nothing more to say. She was proud of herself for responding politely and maturely but also for holding her ground.
But she also felt kind of sick. Like she needed to shake something nasty off her skin. She said hello to a few people—the first ones she ran into—before she discreetly made her way to the bathroom.
She didn’t want it to look like she was upset about news of Scott’s wedding. That wasn’t what had upset her at all.
But she needed to hide in a bathroom stall for a minute, shake through a few silent sobs, and pull herself together.
She was composed again as she washed her hands and left the restroom.
Keith was waiting for her, his tie slightly askew and concern in his brown eyes.
“Hey,” she said, smiling even though the sight of his much-loved face made her want to cry again. “I was just about to look for you.”
When she reached him, he put his hands on her upper arms and studied her closely for a few seconds, searching for something in her expression. Then he pulled her into a long hug like the one he’d given her last night. “Are you okay?” he murmured against her ear.
“Yes.” Her voice was muffled but composed. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You look upset.”
“I am a little. But it’s not a big deal.”
“It doesn’t have to be a big deal.” His arms were still around her, and his voice was thick and soft. “I heard about Scott and Amber. It’s okay if that’s what’s bothering you. You don’t have to hide it from me.”
She pulled away quickly so she could meet his eyes. “It’s not that, Keith. I promise it’s not that.”
“Okay. I’m just saying I think it’s natural to feel weird about it when your ex gets married again.”
“Yeah. It probably is. And it does feel weird, but not for the obvious reasons. It’s just that...” She took a ragged breath as she found the right words. “It makes me feel bad. About myself. That I loved him. That I wanted him. That I was as happy as Amber is now. When I can see so clearly now that he’s not worthy of that love. It makes me feel so stupid, and I hate feeling that way. I don’t know why I can’t shake it off.”
His face relaxed. “I think that’s natural too. That kind of thing lingers. I still get those full-body cringes when I think of stupid things I did when I was younger.”
She frowned, distracted from her own worries by this comment. “What stupid things? You never did anything stupid.”
“Oh yes, I did. More stupid things than I care to think about.”
“Like what?”
He shifted from foot to foot and didn’t meet her eyes, proof that he was genuinely embarrassed by what he was about to tell her. “I can think of several women I didn’t do right by when I was younger. I led them on and then really hurt them. I didn’t do it on purpose. I was just taking the easy way out. I didn’t want a confrontation, so I just stopped calling them.” He winced. “I know I hurt a few of them, and I hate that I was so cowardly and heartless.”
“You were never heartless,” she whispered, reaching up to hold on to one of his lapels. “You wouldn’t feel so bad about it now if you were heartless.”
“Maybe so. But I should have done better. I hate that I was one of those guys.”
“If that’s the worst of what you’ve done, you’ve done pretty good for yourself.”
He shook his head and smiled as he finally met her eyes again. “Maybe. But I still hate that I was like that. Which means I can kind of understand what you’re feeling. But I can say the same thing. If your biggest regret is loving someone who didn’t deserve it, you’re doing pretty good for yourself too.”
She laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder for a few seconds. “I guess so. It doesn’t make that full-body cringe any easier to deal with.”
“I know. But everyone feels that way about something unless they’re a sociopath. Everyone is stupid. Everyone makes mistakes. You don’t have to beat yourself up for not being perfect.”
She leaned forward to kiss him—acting on instinct—before she realized that they were in a hallway off the reception room and anyone might see them. Then she decided she didn’t care.
She wanted to kiss him, so she did.
He kissed her back, but they both pulled away after a minute.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “You deserve to have some fun. Let’s get a little bit buzzed.”
“You know it only takes me two glasses to get that way.”
“Then you can have two glasses. Or more if you want.”
“I don’t want to be a bad bridesmaid and get drunk at Amanda’s wedding. I also don’t want to embarrass myself.”
“I won’t let you embarrass yourself. I’ll make sure you don’t go too far. But you can let down your guard occasionally and have some fun.” He gave her the most appealing little smile. “Don’t you want to?”
She told him the truth. “Yes. I kind of do.”
“Then let’s do it. You can trust me.”
She always had, and she trusted him now more than ever. “Okay. Let’s get buzzed.”
KEITH KNEW FROM EXPERIENCE that Serena wasn’t lying about her low tolerance for alcohol. It only took a couple of glasses for her to be in the condition it would take him at least four to get to. So he’d meant what he told her about making sure she didn’t go too far.
After two glasses of the excellent champagne, Serena was flying high, giggling, and chattering and dancing uninhibitedly to the music. He was happy to see her acting so free, but he made sure she drank water for the next hour before she had any more champagne.
She wanted more champagne after the bride and groom cut the cake, and by that point she’d come down enough that he didn’t think it would do any harm. So she had a couple more glasses and a really good time. Eventually, after the bride and groom had left for their honeymoon and the reception was starting to clear out, Serena was dancing a slow dance with him, her arms wrapped tightly around him, her soft body pressed against his.
He loved the feel of it. Loved that she was so touchy right now. Loved that she didn’t seem to care if other people were noticing they’d become more than friends.
And he was also hoping that this wasn’t just the result of the alcohol and she’d pull back or change her mind tomorrow.
He didn’t mind waiting for her. At all. But no matter how well things were going, part of him was still worried that a thread would snap at any moment and their whole relationship might tumble into ruin.
Later, the room had mostly emptied out, and Serena was sitting beside him, almost asleep with her head against his shoulder. Taylor, one of the other bridesmaids who’d gone to school with them, came over to pick up her wrap, which was on a chair next to him.
“You still awake there, Serena?” she asked, peering down at her.
“Yes, I’m awake,” Serena replied with a huff. “I’m just taking a break so I can dance some more.”
Taylor chuckled dryly. “I think the fun is mostly over here. I’m heading home.”
“Oh.” Serena blinked as she straightened up. “Did I miss all the fun?”
“No. You participated in all the fun. You were the life of the party. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Well, I did.” Serena looked fuzzily between Taylor and Keith. “So I did a good job having fun?”
Keith couldn’t help but laugh as he squeezed her in a one-arm hug. “You did a great job having fun. We can go home anytime you’re ready.”
“I’m ready now. I don’t think I’ve got much more fun in me.” She wobbled a little as she stood up, so Keith slid his arm around her waist to support her.
Taylor eyed them skeptically. “Still just friends?”
Keith had no idea what Serena would want the answer to be, so he waited for her to respond.
She leaned against Keith and said, “We’re figuring things out.”
That was as go
od an answer as he could hope for.
SERENA FELL ASLEEP on the drive home, and she was groggy and fuzzy as he half carried her upstairs. He unlocked her apartment with her key and then led her to her bedroom.
“You can stay with me tonight,” she said, holding on to his jacket lapels as he tried to help her into bed.
“I don’t think I will. You need to sleep this off.”
“I didn’t drink that much,” she insisted, collapsing onto the mattress as soon as Keith let go of her. “Just a few glasses of champagne.”
“I know that. But for you it’s a lot. So the best thing for you to do is rest. Eva doesn’t come home from your mom’s until tomorrow afternoon, so you can sleep in late if you want to.”
“I never sleep in late.” She huffed as if he’d insulted her. She was clumsily reaching behind her, and it took it a minute for him to figure out she was trying to unzip her dress.
He reached down to do it for her.
“Thank you.” She shimmied out of it, leaving herself in just her bra and panties.
Keith’s whole body tightened painfully as he leered down at the soft, full curves of her body. He’d never seen her like this before, and he wanted her so much he could barely move.
“Do I look good?” she asked, evidently reading something in his face despite her state of intoxication.
“You look gorgeous.” His voice came out as almost a growl.
“Thank you.” She preened visibly in pleasure. “You can stay and have sex with me if you want.”
He almost choked. “Thank you for the offer, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Don’t you want to?”
“Of course I want to. But you weren’t ready yesterday, so I can’t be sure you’re ready today. You can wait and decide when you haven’t had so much to drink.”
“But I do want to have sex with you.” The declaration seemed to use up all her energy. She closed her eyes and added in a soft mumble, “I never realized how much. I must have been blind.”
“I hope so. But we’ll wait and talk about it tomorrow.” He was hard as a rock in his pants, and his heart was galloping like crazy. It wouldn’t take much for him to reach down and finally have what he’d wanted for so long.
But he’d never do that to her. Or to himself. Because what he wanted was all of her—consciously given and not fallen into because her inhibitions were lowered from champagne.
“Okay,” she said agreeably. “Can you get me a nightgown please?”
“Yes.” He turned around, deeply relieved to have a reason to move and also to cover up some of her luscious, naked flesh. When he found a gown in her dresser drawer, he walked back to the bed and helped her put it on.
She got it over her head but then worked on taking off her bra before she put her arms in the sleeves. He had to turn his back to keep from watching.
“I’m done,” she told him after a minute. “I didn’t want to sleep in my bra.”
“Makes sense to me.”
She’d tossed her bra on the floor, and it looked dangerously sexy sprawled out on the hardwood. Keith made himself look away. “Okay. Get under the covers and go to sleep. I’ll be next door if you need anything.”
“Okay. You sure you don’t want to have sex?”
“Not tonight.”
“Okay. Maybe tomorrow.”
He made another guttural sound but made himself walk toward the door.
“I love you, Keith,” she called out to his back.
He froze. Couldn’t move.
“Don’t you love me too?” she asked when he didn’t answer.
“Yes. You know I do.”
“Okay. Good. Good night.”
“Good night,” he rasped.
With great effort, he put one foot in front of the other until he’d made it to the door. He locked it behind him when he left.
seven
SERENA WOKE UP IN THE morning with a pounding headache, which was hardly unexpected. Since it was still early, she gulped down a bottle and a half of water, took some ibuprofen, went to the bathroom, and then lay back down to sleep again.
The next time she woke up, it was after ten, and her headache had faded to a dull throbbing. Since it was bearable this time, she took a couple of swallows of water from the half-filled bottle on her nightstand. Then she reached for her phone.
Nothing had come in during the night except a couple of junk messages.
Keith’s texts were at the top of her list. She opened his thread and tapped out a message. You awake?
Yes. You feel ok?
Headache. Not too bad.
Good. Feel like company?
Sure. Come on over.
She was still in bed in a nightgown she must have put on when she’d gotten home last night. Some of the evening was fuzzy in her mind, but she knew Keith had stayed with her. He’d brought her home. It felt like she’d had a good time and must not have embarrassed herself too much.
Keith had promised not to let her, and she trusted him completely.
A knock on her front door preceded the sound of a key in the lock. “I’m here,” he called out.
She couldn’t see the entryway from her bedroom, but she assumed he must have stuck his head into the apartment before he walked in.
“Come on in,” she told him. “I haven’t gotten out of bed yet.”
In a few seconds, he was standing in her bedroom doorway, dressed in old sweats and a T-shirt. He hadn’t shaved, and his hair was kind of rumpled, but he looked absolutely scrumptious. “Hey there,” he said warmly. “So you don’t feel too terrible?”
“No. My head hurt worse earlier, but I drank a bunch of water and took some Advil. I’m fine. Kind of sketchy about all the details from last night though.”
He walked closer to the bed. “So you can’t remember what happened?”
“I remember some things but not everything. For instance, I can’t seem to remember putting this nightgown on. Did I... did I manage that on my own?”
He chuckled. He looked as relaxed and easygoing as usual. Not awkward or self-conscious. She must not have done anything too mortifying if he looked so unconcerned. “I helped a little, but you did most of it.”
“Oh good. I’m a pretty stupid drunk, and I didn’t want to have put you in an uncomfortable situation.”
“You didn’t. It was fine. Everyone is a stupid drunk.” He paused and glanced away as if he’d just thought of something.
“What?” she demanded. “If I did something, you have to tell me.”
“You didn’t do anything bad. You danced a lot and laughed a lot and had a good time. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. But when we got home, you did take your dress off. In front of me. I’d feel bad about not telling you that even though it wasn’t a problem.” He scrutinized her face, obviously checking for her reaction.
She groaned and closed her eyes. “Sorry.”
“I told you it wasn’t a problem. So don’t be sorry on my account. I’m sorry if that’s not something you would have wanted to do. I did my best to look away.” He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t entirely successful.”
Maybe it was a lingering effect of the champagne, but she collapsed into giggles. “You weren’t?”
“No.” He twitched his eyebrows. “I was bad. Just a little. I’m sorry.”
“I can hardly blame you since I’m the one who took off my clothes. But I don’t actually mind that you saw me that way.”
“No?”
“No.” She patted the bed beside her, inviting him to stretch out on top of the covers. Since she was under them, it felt friendly rather than intimate. “I know I’m safe with you.”
“You are. I want you to trust me.”
“I do.”
“You remember about Scott and Amber, right?” he asked softly in a different tone.
“Yeah. I remember.”
“How are you feeling about that today?”
“I feel...” She paused to assess her
emotions. “I feel fine. Kind of distanced now, if you want to know the truth. I still feel stupid about falling in love with him, but it doesn’t feel so intense. I’m not sure why I got so upset about it yesterday. Sorry if I was a mess.”
“You weren’t a mess.”
“It’s nice of you to say that, but I kind of was.”
He reached out to take her hand, which was lying on top of her covers. “Well, you’re my mess, so I like it.”
She giggled again, although she was ridiculously touched. She lifted his hand to her mouth so she could kiss his knuckles. “I really appreciate you being so careful and patient and knowing I need to go slow, but if anything is bothering you or not working for you, I want you to tell me. I don’t want this relationship to be just you taking care of me. I want it to be... reciprocal.”
“It is reciprocal.” He turned his head so he could meet her eyes. “I’ve been living with these feelings a lot longer than you. It’s newer to you, so it takes more time for you to process. And you’re the one with the previous marriage to deal with. You’ve taken care of me most of my life. There’s nothing one-sided about this.”
She nodded, thinking—hoping—he was right. “Okay. Because... because I might have fallen apart a little yesterday, but I really like where this thing between us is going.”
“Yeah?” Just one word with a faint rasp in the tone, and it spoke volumes about hope and joy and tenderness.
“Yeah.” She kissed his hand again. This time on the palm.
“It’s probably no surprise to you, but I like it too.”
THEY HUNG OUT THAT morning, watching TV in bed and then making a late breakfast of eggs and pancakes. By the time she was taking a shower at about two in the afternoon, her headache was completely gone and a shuddering excitement had taken its place.
It felt like something was going to happen soon.
Something really good.
And for some reason, her long-held fear that one step over the line would tumble the whole precarious house of cards had completely disappeared.
So at four o’clock, she and Keith drove over to her mother’s small brick ranch house. It was a nice older neighborhood, but not anything like the wealthy suburb where Weston Academy was located. When she was younger, Serena had felt awkward about the difference in lifestyle between her own family and the families of her friends. But now she loved her mother’s house—her mother’s neighborhood—and would much rather live there than in the big, pretentious, soulless house she’d lived in when she was married to Scott.