Page 74 of One Little Victory
22 - ADDISON
A shiver rippled along my spine as Simon’s warm hand pressed firmly against my back and led me onto the dance floor. I felt the heat of his touch zipping through my veins like electricity, and I felt his breath tickle my ear before his whispers reached me.
“Did you bring a wrap I can summon for you? Or perhaps my jacket? As much as I adore to see so much of your beautiful skin, I hate to see you cold.” He kissed my shoulder, wrapping a curl around his finger before letting go and looking at me with hooded eyes.
“No, thank you.” I wouldn’t admit his presence—his touch—made me shiver. I had to focus on the endgame. Though the idea that he would take a chance on me—on us—filled me with so much hope, I felt like I would burst at the seams. “Please, Simon, not tonight. I’m having a hard enough time as it is without also trying to keep my hands off of you.”
“Why? What has you so frazzled, honey?” He tugged me closer to his muscular form and past a pillar draped with mauve silk streamers before leading me onto the dance floor. The ballroom had been beautifully transformed into a veritable fall fairytale of twinkling lights, blossoms, and silk ribbons, with artful bouquets of wildflowers adorning each table. Safe with Simon by my side and Brad nowhere to be seen, I could appreciate the decorations and keep my mind away from the impending task later this evening.
Simon pulled me into his arms, wrapping one hand around my waist and entwining our fingers, not bothering to lead us to the center of the floor or move more than gently swaying us back and forth. I rested my cheek against his, closing my eyes and allowing myself to feel. I felt his thumb rubbing circles on my lower back and the vibrations coming from his throat as he hummed along with the music. The rhythmic shuffle of our feet and puff of our breaths had my heartbeat settling when the song ended and a fast-paced one began.
More couples shuffled onto the dance floor, jostling past us, and I released Simon’s hand, stepping back and pressing my palm to my forehead.
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to come home with me?” he asked, tugging on my hand. I pulled back, shaking my head and looking around the room for Brad. The quicker I could get him to talk, the quicker I could get the hell out of here and confess everything.
“No, I need you to trust me. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“I trust you, honey. Tomorrow,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Answer me this before I leave, please. That jerk, Brad. He’s not here, is he? He’s not why you’re so out of sorts tonight, is he?”
Oh no. I can’t lie, not after agreeing to give us a real chance and asking him to trust me. But he won’t leave if he knows Brad is here. And he has to go.
Fuck.
I have to lie. For him. For us.
He’ll understand.
I’ll make him understand.
“No. He’s not here tonight,” I said, doing everything to project confidence into my voice.
“Thank fuck, honey. I wouldn’t let you out of my sight if he were. I’m going to say goodnight to my mother and collect my friend, Isabella. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”
“Yes. Come over as early as you want. I’ll be waiting.” I moved to press a kiss to his cheek, but he turned and caught my lips, kissing me fiercely before pulling away.
“Until tomorrow, honey.” He winked and turned to his parents’ table. I collected my clutch and went in the opposite direction, heading down a dimly lit hallway toward the powder room, needing a minute to switch gears before the next part of my evening began.
“Well, what do we have here?” a voice called from a shadowed corner of the hallway, taking one step into the light so I could make out his face.
Brad’s eyes were glassy with the effects of alcohol, and his bowtie was askew, but I trusted the micro SD card hidden safely in my hairclip to record every second of our conversation, knowing now would be as good as time as any. I added a little saunter in my step as I turned, putting a hand on my hip, and clicking my tongue.
“What are you doing hiding in the corner? Naughty, naughty,” I purred, trying to make my voice drip with sex appeal and not disgust. “I thought I’d never get you alone, Brad.”
“You certainly painted a different picture that day you came to speak in my class,” he scoffed, pushing himself off the wall and standing in front of me. I towered over him with my heels by an inch or two and wrinkled my nose at the shiny patches of his scalp I could see through his thinning hair.
“Ugh. Petty jealousy. It’s obvious you have a thing for Charlotte.” I traced my fingers down my neck and across my chest, and he followed the movement, practically drooling.
Good. Pig.
“No one could compare to you.”
“So you tried then? Using unsuspecting college girls as a substitute for who you wanted?”
He gulped and nodded, reaching out to touch my hair.
“Any redheads?”
Another nod.