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CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

JOSHUA

Bennett’s townhouse is quiet.

Almost too quiet.

It unnerves me.

Maybe because I’m seconds away from seeing Wynter for the first time since she stomped on my heart.

I sit on the edge of the stool in his kitchen, staring at the clock on the stove, my leg bouncing.

It’s one minute to seven. Wynter should be here any time now…if Bennett’s plan works.

He’d invited her over for game night, knowing she’d never turn down an opportunity to kick her brother’s ass in Trivial Pursuit or Monopoly. I just hope she doesn’t take one look at me and run.

I push out a breath and scrub a hand over my face, unable to shake the feeling this is a horrible idea. I already told Wynter how I feel about her. Already put my heart in her hands, and she obliterated it.

But emotions were high that night. Now that she’s had a few days to think about things, she might make a different decision.

Maybe it’s a mistake.

Maybe it’s selfish.

Maybe I’m setting myself up to get hurt all over again.

But if I don’t try, I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what might have happened if I’d fought for her a little harder.

So I sit here.

And wait.

Like clockwork, a pair of headlights sweeps across the living room wall at exactly seven.

When the front door opens, I jump to my feet, my heart pounding against my ribs.

“Bennett?” Wynter calls out from the entryway. “Are you decent? I’m here. And I’m ready to kick your ass in Monopoly.”

I close my eyes, drawing in a deep breath to suppress the nerves taking hold of me. Then I round the corner and step into the living room.

The second Wynter’s eyes land on mine, she sucks in a sharp breath and stops dead in her tracks.

Then she exhales a resigned sigh. “Bennett’s not here, is he?”

I slowly shake my head.

“I’m not doing this.” She spins on her heel.

“Just give me one dance,” I call out.

She stops and glances over her shoulder. “A…dance?”

“I’ve watched you dance for years but never got to dance with you. That’s all I’m asking for. One dance with you. Then you can leave and never see or talk to me again.”

She doesn’t immediately agree. But she doesn’t storm out of the townhouse, either. Just stares at me, as if trying to figure out what my ulterior motive is.

But I don’t have one. I just want to dance with her.