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“We should probably get back upstairs,” he says, but I can tell he doesn’t really want to do it.
So many possible responses come to mind.
Why?
Let’s not.
How about we find a dark corner and make some bad decisions?
“Devon will be looking for us,” he presses.
So that’s it. My brother.
Fuck it. You don’t get what you want by being a wallflower. Look at Enzo. He’s a prime example of what a person can accomplish if they go after what they want and make it happen.
“You’re worried about what he’ll think?” I ask.
Enzo is standing too damn close for me to think straight.
“Nah. But you know Devon likes to be first at everything. He’ll be pissed if he finds out you saw the downstairs before him.”
Which is totally true. I could never even get on the bus first without my brother pushing me behind him. The car, the stairs. Always Devon first.
But is he seriously worried about that? Is it possible I’ve read this wrong? A moment of panic steals over me before I notice his grin.
He’s teasing me.
His shrug is an admission. “I’m not sure what he’ll think. About showing you around, I mean.”
Oh God.
Enzo moves toward me, and my entire body is aware of his proximity. I need to get a grip, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult with every step he takes.
“When we were kids, you used to stick up for me,” I say. And he did. He used to insist on theladies firstrule, not that Devon ever listened.
“We’re not kids anymore, Chari.”
No shit, Sherlock. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t still stick up for me.”
My meaning is as clear as his: Enzo is worried about my brother’s reaction tous; I’m not.
Their friendship is a totally different relationship than whatever is happening between us. I should say all of this, but my mouth refuses to open.
“I will always stick up for you.” He takes another step, and now we’re really, really close. “Always.”
“Um, Chari,” a voice calls. “Enzo?”
It’s Lisa.
“Tris is about to give a speech.”
The moment is over. And make no mistake, it was a moment. I thought I wanted to kiss Enzo before, years ago. But now I want him to ravage me, the thought so overwhelming I can’t even muster a response to Lisa.
“We’re coming up,” Enzo says. But then he leans in and whispers in my ear, “We aren’t done here.”
7
Enzo
