Page 161 of Sour Notes

With trembling fingers, I fumble to undo my wedges, finally managing to remove them on the third try, before sliding my feet into the flip flops I stupidly came back here to get. Now I wish I’d just suffered through the heel torture. A broken ankle would have been preferable to seeing him again.

I take a shaky breath—my whole body shivering so much my teeth chatter—and, quiet as I can, pull the door open a crack to peer out and make sure the asshole is gone.

The coast is clear, so I pull up my dress, shutting the door silently behind me, and run down the walkway as fast as my flip flops allow. Just as I round the corner, I spot Swayze walking towards me, a wide smile spreading across his face as he sees me.

“There you are. I was starting to worry you snuck off for a nap without me.”

He walks up to me, wrapping me in his arms, and I bury my nose in his chest, his familiar woodsy scent washing over me.

“Hey, baby, you're trembling, are you okay?”

Well shit. Of course he noticed.

“All good, I’m just a little cold. I’m sure once I start dancing, I’ll warm up again.”

Straight away, he whips his jacket off and wraps it round my shoulders, rubbing my arms.

Thank goodness the years of masking paid off. I manage to keep my voice even, so he doesn’t notice anything untoward, but I keep my face buried in his chest. If he looks at me too long, he’ll figure out something’s wrong and the second he asks I’ll end up sobbing like a baby before I can say boo.

“Let’s go whirl you round the dance floor then, Angel.” He keeps me curled into his side and walks us back towards the pool.

Staring blankly at the ocean, I focus on my breathing, counting to ten and restarting in a useless attempt to find some sense of calm.

But inside, the heart I was only just starting to believe in again is already crumbling to ash.

I was stupid to hope for something else. I should’ve known better. I promised myself I'd never let a man hurt me again.

And now, not only did Pete get close enough to attack me, but I’ve dropped my guard around Swayze too.

What happens when he realizes I’m not the fantasy angel he’s built in his mind?

When I stop being enough?

I’ve stupidly handed him the power to not just hurt, but utterly destroy me. There’s no way I’ll survive that.

Swayze squeezes my hand, pulling me out of my bitter thoughts.

“Wanna dance, Angel?” He smiles warmly, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face.

Swallowing the emotion trapped in my throat, I force a smile and nod.

He draws me close, his arms curling around me while we slow dance to a song I can’t even hear.

Instead, I focus on the warmth of his palm resting on my bare skin and the slow, rhythmic thump of his heart.

We stay wrapped in each other, slow dancing for what seems like hours, but in reality is probably closer to four or five songs.

When one of my favorite songs, “Iris” by the Goo Goo Dolls, comes on, he leads us into a darker, more secluded corner of the deck and tips my chin up, brushing his lips over mine.

I pour everything into this kiss, knowing it’s probably wise to make it our last.

He exhales sharply, pulling me tight against him, singing the lyrics he knows I love so much while we sway. I bury my face into his chest, a silent, solitary tear escaping and falling down my cheek.

Well shit.

So much for not crying.

“Mia?” I freeze, muffling a response while trying to quickly swipe away the tear before he notices. I back myself closer to the wall hoping the shadows make it less obvious that I’m crying.