Page 72 of I Saw You First

Cesar gives him an exaggerated look of confusion, eyes wide. “You’d like to dance with Abbey?”

Wil raises that one eyebrow and gives him a pinched smile. “Yes, I’d like to dance with Abbey.”

Cesar releases me and bows. He leans up—way up—toward Wil and says, “You hurt her, and I will end you.”

And then, Wil gathers me into his arms like he’s done it a thousand times before, and I feel the swizzle, the warmth, the longing. My body hums at his touch. Everything—our arguments, the stress of the holidays, my disappointments and failures—falls away, and something perfect and promising slots into place. Finally.

Everything’s always working out for me.

NINETEEN

“DREAM A LITTLE DREAM” BY CASS ELLIOT, 1968

WIL

My night was not going well.

Dad insisted that we all sit at a table together and give the impression of one big happy family. This was not unlike any other Hometown League New Year’s Eve gala, but this year, Mimi and Bob and Howie were unable to travel after a blizzard dumped nearly a foot of snow in Wausau. Seeing them has always been the highlight of this night—of any Hometown League function—but as a bonus for the gala, they typically never sit at Dad’s table, giving me an excuse to avoid him.

But tonight, in addition to Dad’s criticism about year-over-year revenue numbers, blah blah blah, and Chanelle’s insistence that the professional photographer take a family photo “before your boys get drunk like last year, Jeff,” Kelsey and Andre are fighting. Apparently, the travel requirements for Andre’s new gig at the nonprofit are more than anticipated and Kelsey is still upset that he missed the ultrasound to find out the baby’s sex.

They announced their pregnancy—finally—at Thanksgiving. Chanelle fawned over her, Andre held her hair back while she threw up, Dad beamed at the prospect of his favorite child bearing a favorite child—a girl.

I had to get away from these people. When I saw Abbey dancing and laughing with Cesar, I had to be near her. That simple decision to spend time with her eased the tension in me, like an impossible knot finally coming loose.

She seemed surprised when I cut in, but Cesar, it should be noted, did not.

“Are you enjoying yourself tonight?” I ask. It sounds unnatural, awkward. She’s got her left hand on my shoulder, her right hand clasped in my left. We fit together perfectly, even in this formal position.

“Yes.” She looks over my shoulder at the band onstage. She won’t look me in the eye.

“A lot of the funding for the program is raised at this event,” I say, “along with the big music festival in July. It’s kind of a family tradition that we all announce the year’s lineup tonight right before midnight. You’re going to love the headliners. You could volunteer and be backstage.”

Her eyes finally meet mine and flash with interest. “Can you tell me the headliners now?”

“I could,” I say quietly. I want to make her laugh. “But then I’d have to kill you.”

“I can wait until midnight,” she says primly. “I haven’t seen you at our table tonight.”

“I’d much rather be at your table, but I’m here with my family.”

“Aren’t you afraid someone might see us dancing together?” she asks. “You wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

“What idea is that?”

Her eyes widen and her eyebrows fly up in surprise. “Did you seriously just ask me that question? Do you not remember what you said to me the night you drove me home?”

“Hmm,” I murmur in response. I don’t want to think about what I said to her that night. Jeremy might be right. Lightning doesn’t strike twice, and Abbey Rhodes lights me up like no one else.

The day after Christmas, I sent her flowers. I meant them as a thank you for a successful holiday season, but when the florist asked me what I wanted to say on the card, I balked. A manager shouldn’t send his team captain an expensive bouquet as a thank you. I never sent Aurora flowers, or any of my other TCs on my other rotations.

And besides, it wasn’t the real reason. I was thinking about my conversation with Jeremy on Christmas Eve when I ordered that bouquet, and the flowers that her dad buys for her mom, and I wanted to do that for Abbey. In the end, though, I asked the florist to put only her name on the card, careful to make sure she spelled it correctly. Abbey never mentioned the flowers to me, and I overheard Lavender telling Collin that they were from a secret admirer.

The band finishes “Some Enchanted Evening” and transitions seamlessly into “Dream a Little Dream.” I tuck Abbey in even closer. She rests her head on my shoulder and for a moment, everything is perfect.

You can get another job, but you can’t get another Abbey.

I drop her hand and instead wrap both arms around her waist and pull her close. Her arms go up around my neck and her eyes flutter shut. I feel the moment that she allows herself to soften in my embrace.