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There were just a lot of emotions wrapped up in this one day, and I was having trouble digesting them all.
A waiter walked by, so I set my still-full glass of orange juice and Prosecco on his tray.
Brady lifted a brow and watched me carefully. “Was it the orange juice? Or the Prosecco?” He swallowed. “Or the company?”
I forced a smile. “Not the company.”
He smiled back.
This whole interaction should have flattered me to pieces, but it just felt misplaced. I didn’t talk to guys, not like this. I wasn’t opposed to dating. I’d even gone out with a few guys from my school. No one ever held my attention past dinner and a movie. Until today, I’d had a path to follow. I was focused on one thing only—gettinghere. Now that I washere, I had no idea what I wanted to do, where else I wanted to go. What was I supposed to focus on? Was this it? Was this my destination? Was I supposed to fall into the arms of a guy like Brady and become the trophy wife who cheered from the sidelines? Would I give up my dreams and become my mother? Did I even have a dream anymore?
Get a grip, Tatum. You’re a mess. It’s a conversation, not a marriage proposal.
I wondered if graduation day was like this for everyone. Did everyone feel as if they were standing on the edge of a cliff, staring out at the world with the world staring back, knowing that the second they took that next step they would either fall… or they would fly?
I wanted to fly.
I was terrified of the fall.
Brady waved at another waiter a few feet away. The young guy in the black tuxedo looked like he forgot how to walk but finally got his feet to work and made it over to us. I supposed Brady got that reaction a lot.
He set his champagne glass on the waiter’s tray and flashed me a grin.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said.
“I guess I didn’t feel like being much of a drinker today either.” His blue eyes grew darker.
A familiar heat crept up my neck and to my cheeks. Awkward or not, Brady wasn’t the kind of guy my ovaries didn’t notice, and the fact that he just didthat… forme… raised the temperature about ninety degrees in my panties.
Maybe I needed to forget about falling or flying and let him hold me right here on the edge, at least for tonight.
Lincoln walked up and clapped a hand on Brady’s shoulder before I had a chance to respond. “If you’re hitting on my sister, you’re wasting your time.” His gaze moved to me, mischief twinkling in his eyes. “She’s an ice queen.”
I glared at my brother. “Not true. I happen to be very hot. You’re just a dick, so I stay away from you.”
Brady pursed his lips as if he were thinking. Then he smirked. “I’m going with your sister on this one.”
On which part? That I was hot? Or that Lincoln was a dick?
Lincoln pointed between Brady and me. “You’re both assholes.” Then he nodded his head toward the band. “I hate to cockblock here, but my dad wanted to talk to you.”
When Senator Huntington rang the bell, you went running, no matter who you were.
I was almost going to miss the quarterback’s company, but it was nice to finally see Lincoln in a decent mood. He needed his friend more than I needed to get laid.
I hadn’t been with anyone since Caspian, and something told me Brady—although sexy as sin—would never compare to my first. He was too nice, too thoughtful, too much of everything Caspian Donahue was not.
“I’ll see you later?” Brady asked before he walked away, his deep voice interrupting my dark thoughts.
It was more of a question than a statement, so I gave him a smile and nodded. “Yeah. I’ll see you later.”
As always, Caspian had crept his way into my thoughts. I needed to get him out of my head, so I made my way around the space, flashing smiles and giving thanks to all the people my parents invited. I had no idea how my mother did this all the time. It was exhausting. Then again, I didn’t know what was worse, forcing a smile or having to explain why you wore a frown.
The music faded as I walked to the edge of the property and looked over the hedges onto the ocean. Way off in the distance, the sky turned a pinkish-orange as the sun began to set. The deep blue waves crested then collapsed in a spray of white foam. The crashing of them against the sand made its own kind of symphony, almost as if the ocean itself were breathing. A flock of seagulls flew overhead then dipped down closer to the water, scouting for their next meal.
An immediate peace washed over me. I breathed it all in and tried to think about what would happen next. What step did I take? The only thing I was sure of was that I wanted to dance. I wanted to breathe. I was tired of suffocating from the inside of a box I didn’t belong in.
“We haven’t taken pictures yet, and you’re going to smear your lipstick.” My mother’s voice scolded somewhere behind me.
