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“Eyes on the prize.” He spun me out and pulled me back into him. “Just
follow me.”
“I don’t dance.”
“I knew that.” He dipped me, and I followed. “From the fall dance at
school.”
“Did you?”
He yanked me up. “That’s the official story.”
His parents were talking quietly by the rooftop railing. Doreen frowned,
watching us.
“I don’t think your mother’s convinced.”
He glanced up at them, then back at me. “Let’s fix that.”
When he leaned down to kiss me, I put my hands flat on his chest.
Logan wasn’t my type. He had things I needed now, but nothing I
wanted for the future. I’d die of boredom with him, and I was clearly not
what he had in mind when he imagined a happy marriage. But some things
needed to be said out loud.
“Wait,” I said. “We have to get divorced at some point, and…” I paused
to organize my thoughts and failed. “There’s a lot of kissing and… it’s
necessary. I understand. But the thing is…” I stopped myself, meeting the
cool blue of his eyes. “I don’t want you to get confused.”
“About what?”
“We’re getting divorced.”
Anyone who heard his laughter without hearing what we were talking
about would have thought he was delighted with the woman he loved. “Yes,
Estella. We’re getting divorced.”
“No feelings,” I said. “Right?”
“None whatsoever.”
“Okay. Kiss me.”
It must have been the champagne and the music. Definitely the way his
arms held me so tightly, rocking back and forth with the rhythm.
No feelings, sure. But Logan kissed like he meant it, and the champagne
fizzed inside me, bubbles popping up from the base of my spine, shaking
long dormant nerves awake. His hands stayed in an appropriate position,
but all I wanted was to feel them stroke lower, deeper, where I shuddered
with desire.
“Stop,” I said, pulling away.
“You all right?”