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Cornell shrugged, hands still in his pockets. “Wouldn’t know. Never went.”
Ali frowned. Cornell was robbed of a lot of rites of passage as a teenager because he changed schools so many times.
“Tonight will kind of be like one. But with more old people and we won’t have to hide the vodka in a sprite bottle,” Ali joked, but Cornell didn’t laugh. His eyes narrowed, focusing on her. “What?”
“Are you married to those earrings?”
She twirled the small, gold stud. “No. But I wear these every day so if you tell me you don’t like them now, I’m going to be upset.”
“Take them off.” Cornell went to their bedroom, returning with a small box. Ali gasped when he opened it, revealing a pair of diamond stars that looked like snowflakes.
“Cornell—”
“Try not to lose these,” he told her with a wink.
Ali’s hand flew to her bare neck, wishing to find the delicate chain.
Cornell’s face grew solemn. “They were my mom’s.”
Ali looked up from the earrings in his open palm. “I can’t—”
“You will.”
“They’re yours.”
“She’d be pretty upset with me if I pierced my ears. Besides, that dress doesn’t deserve everyday jewelry.” He waited for Ali to remove the studs from her ears, his smile growing when she finally did, picking up his mother’s earrings.
Ali fastened them, letting her fingers dance over the stones before going back to the entry, looking in the mirror as they sparkled.
“They’re so beautiful,” Ali whispered, catching his warm gaze in the mirror. “Thank you.”
“My mom would’ve wanted you to have them,” Cornell said, coming up behind her, still standing at a distance—a safe distance—continuing to avoid any kind of touching unless he was right in front of her.
Ali didn’t know if the pain in her chest from Cornell’s continued carefulness stemmed from her being happy at his thoughtfulness or saddened by it.
“I know she’d be proud of me for making a good decision. She would’ve loved you, Ali.”
Oh, Cornell, Ali thought, fighting a frown as her eyes met his. I would’ve loved her too. Because something tells me you got a lot of your good from her.
The small distance between them didn’t feel right against the high emotion of the room. “Come here.” She sighed, reaching a hand behind her. “Please.”
He cautiously stepped forward, taking her hand, allowing Ali to pull him closer. In the mirror, Ali watched herself place Cornell’s hand on her waist, reaching for his other to wrap it around her as well, tugging him flush against her.
I know, Ali said to herself when she heard and felt Cornell’s longing sigh. It feels like home, and I’ve missed it so much.I know you’d never hurt me. I hate that I ever let you think it was even a possibility. But Ali had never been scared of Cornell. What she had been scared of was the unknown, how she might react, how it would feel to freeze against him instead of fall back into him—how awful that might be for the both of them.
But Ali didn’t freeze, she didn’t flee. She leaned back, watching Cornell rub up and down her sides gently. His gaze drifted down the length of her body from above, his eyes returning to hers, unable to hide the love on his face while his fingertips continued to skim.
For the first time, Ali didn’t harp on how his touch was different. It wasn’t firm and needy. It was soft, reassuring. Ali could have gotten frustrated, but the feeling encompassing her and them was so strong, Cornell’s gaze so warm, she realized he wasn’t touching her like that because he was afraid of hurting or scaring her. Cornell was touching her like she was precious—like she was something. The realization finally blossomed the right kind of goosebumps across her skin.
“We clean up pretty good.” He smiled against her bare shoulder, pressing a kiss to it.
Oh god.
She swallowed heavily, wondering just how angry her mother would be if she managed to convince Cornell to skip the gala altogether. Her mind took off. Keep going, she wanted to say and found herself shutting her eyes and breathing out a whisper of a groan. Her hand went up to Cornell’s head to lock him there, waiting for the moment his closed-mouthed kisses would open. Taste me. Ali shuddered because she swore Cornell was about to do just that when his mouth ghosted up to her ear.
But instead, he whispered, “Dance with me.”
Cornell turned Ali, pressing his hand to the small of her back. “There’s no music,” she croaked, gripping him tightly.
