Present
Several questions are swirling through my mind at this hour of the night.
For example, when I try to stand, is this little paper toilet seat cover going to stick to my ass? Are my feet numb from the champagne or the magenta stilettoes I’m wearing? The most important question of the night is: why am I sitting in the bathroom stall of a bar, staring at the sticky, alcohol-laden floor? Not to mention the number one question I will never admit out loud: why can’t I get the picture of the brunette that’s been hanging on Paxton all night plunging to her death from a cliff out of my head?
Oh hell. I need to stop. There’s only one person who can distract me from my dumb emotions—Laney.
Taking my phone from my clutch, I tap Laney’s name under my favorites. When it begins to ring, I stand up, wobbling a little while shimmying my panties up my legs and pulling the bottom of my gold mini dress back down from around my waist. A giggle slips past my lips when I think of the hot mess I am tonight.
As Laney’s voicemail echoes in my ear, I fall against the wall of the bathroom stall. “Dammit, Laney! I really wish you would’ve answered,” I holler into the phone unnecessarily. I hear the sounds of feminine chatter drifting from two stalls down, likely girls making one last dash to the ladies’ room before the countdown. I lower my voice, “Happy New Year. God, I wish you were here.” I sigh. “You’d tell me like it is…you’d stop me from doing something stupid…but you’re not here, and when I do that stupid thing, I’m going to blame you. Just a friendly warning.” Pausing, I stare at the writing on the side of the stall and notice the use of the words love and forever written in twirly letters full of hope. I’m sure the voicemail is going to cut off any moment, so I say my goodbye. “Anyway, I love you, Laney, like whoa, and don’t you forget it.”
Ending the call, I glance at the time before opening my clutch and dropping my phone in. I have five minutes until midnight. Pushing the door open, I wobble my way out, slowly making my way to the sink. I wash my hands, drying them before I freshen up with a touch of hot pink lip gloss and a fluff of my hair. One final look, and I approve.
As I leave, three giggling girls walk into the bathroom. I recognize one of them as the girl who has repeatedly taken a nosedive off a cliff in my mind throughout the night—Paxton’s conquest of the evening. She briefly makes eye contact with me and smiles. I hate her.
Realizing I should probably hurry and find Richard, I make my way down the dimly lit hallway, the noise from the crowded bar growing louder. I can hear the excitement spreading around the room. God, I hope Richard stayed where he said he’d be, and I hope Paxton has disappeared.
When I step around the corner, I look around the open room to see if I can spot Richard while thinking about another familiar face.
As the thought crosses my mind, I’m abruptly tugged into a dark corner before I can even register what’s happening. The large hand wrapped around my wrist is slightly calloused. I recognize his smell and a tiny squeak slips out as I’m suddenly face to face with the one person I was trying to avoid.
“Dammit, Paxton! What the hell are you doing?” I shout, annoyance clear in my voice.
“Don’t be mad, Cass. We’ve barely spoken tonight and I—” he starts, but I interrupt him before he can finish. Paxton finishing that statement isn’t a good idea; I can feel it even in my bubbly champagne haze. He’s intoxicated too, and we’ve played this game too many times. There’s never a winner.
In the commotion around us, the countdown to midnight begins.
Ten…
My eyes widen when his grip tightens on my wrist.
Nine…
“Cass…” My name is barely audible when it leaves his mouth like he’s taking his last breath.
Eight…
“Pax…” His name leaves me in the same desperate manner.
Seven…
Whatever this is passing between us, it’s not right. This isn’t us. We aren’t an us.
Six…
Tugging me forward, our eyes still locked, his other hand slips around my waist and rests on my lower back.
Five…
The world around us continues to move, but I feel stuck in time, the girl who was once in love with a boy.
Four…
My focus drops to his mouth. His lips still draw me in with their pouty softness, almost too gentle for a guy, but sexy as hell.
Three…
Paxton.
Two…
All of a sudden, the mouth I’ve been admiring is hovering over mine, waiting, wanting approval. The tiny distance between us is electrifying. It doesn’t matter. Stop…no…
One…
My name slips through his lips on a sigh, and it’s like an alarm sounding off in my brain. The New Year rings and Paxton leans in to seal the start of the year at the same time I take a step back, pulling away in the process.
He reaches for me. My lips tingle, feeling like I’ve been kissed. Paxton’s eyes are wide with disappointment, his mouth open slightly like he’s about to say something.
I shake my head, silent amidst the chaos all around me.
I turn on my heel and push my way through the crowd without looking back, wiping away any memory of the look on Paxton’s face the moment I walk away from him.
Looking forward, my gaze finally lands on Richard. He’s laughing and whistling along with everyone around him. He’s handsome, a different kind of familiar. Without another thought of what almost transpired seconds ago, I throw my arms around his neck, smashing my lips against his, taking him by surprise with a kiss that isn’t his. It only takes a moment for him to reciprocate. When he pulls away and looks down into my eyes, a grin spreads across his face. “Happy New Year!” He yells above the crowd then pulls me into a tight hug.
Feeling overwhelmed by emotions, I try to keep him from seeing them written on my face. I don’t need to see my expression to know I don’t have the look of a girl who just kissed the man she loves on New Year’s. My insides feel crushed, and I’m positive the ache I feel in my heart is written across my features. I’ll hide in his embrace for another moment. No one has to see. I don’t want anyone to see, especially Richard. Clenching my eyes shut, I allow myself to feel so I can let it go.
When Richard squeezes me tighter, I open my eyes again and rest my chin on his shoulder.
The light is bright and my vision is slightly blurred except for one person standing in the middle of the crowd, hands hanging at his side. The look on his face tells me he saw the kiss—his kiss—but how he really feels about it is indecipherable.