In a world of money, fame, and all the champagne that came with it, Camsy Colbert, the famous wedding planner, was alone. But it was fine; she was totally cool with being single. Men could never hold a steady relationship anyway.
She's invited to he...
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There are different kinds of crazy in the world. There's the take off your clothes and jump into a lake kind of crazy. There's the grab your unsuspecting crush by the shirt and kiss the heck out of him crazy. There's also the date thirteen boys and get heartbroken without learning from your mistakes kind of crazy.
But then, there's the dance with the guy you like while your brain is going into overdrive crazy.
"Isn't there supposed to be music of some sort right now?"
We were dancing in an empty hall, with only the light bulbs around as witnesses. Every now and then, we would bump into a table or a candle stand because we were both terrible dancers.
Or maybe it was just me. I didn't remember Parker being this clumsy the last time we danced. I wasn't clumsy at dancing either, but right now, my nerves were all over the place.
This was crazy. First, we had no music on, I was obviously very nervous, and he was too much of a gentleman to call me out on it.
Parker exhaled, his shoulders lifting slightly in the process. His green eyes roamed my face, which was growing hotter by the minute.
"Someone once told me, "our heartbeats are like songs. If we listen to them closely enough, we can dance to them"."
I couldn't help but arch a brow. Was it just me, or did that statement sound so cheesy? "So this is an experiment?" I asked him.
He grinned then. My heartbeat quickened. Staring up at him, I wondered if I was the only one feeling the electricity between us. It was enough to steal my breath.
"No," he replied to my question, his hold on me tightening by the slightest. "I just didn't have an answer to your question."
We laughed. Mine sounded more out of breath, bouncing off the walls and sending echoes around the room. Then there was silence, save for the sounds our feet made. In the midst of it all, Parker spoke up.
"My mom told you about Clare." It wasn't a question. It was a knowing statement. He knew his mom enough to expect that much from her. Funny enough, she'd tried to be vague about it.
I nodded. "Well, technically, you told me about her first. Five years ago."
Parker looked like he was deep in thought, brows furrowed and hands a little too loose around me for my liking. "Five years," he mused. "That's a long time. I'm surprised you remember."
My eyebrows met the roof. I had expected him not to remember anything about that night. Five years could do wonders to the mind and memory. Besides, each time he tried to talk to me about it, I ran away. If it were another, I was sure I wouldn't be feeling like this. So ready to jump into a love story. Mine and his. We'd be perfect to help each other move on from the past heartbreaks. And not just physically this time.
"I remember everything." To the last detail. "What happened to her?" I'd wondered that ever since his mom insinuated that something had happened to her. Even though asking the question felt like overstepping boundaries, I really wanted to know. Besides, Parker had proven to be open: quite opposing to my first impression of him from that night.
