Chapter 48

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My feet were screaming for respite when I finally stepped away again and made my way over to our table.

Pulling out a chair, I sat down, almost groaning with relief.

When I get home, I am throwing these heels away...

As the acute pain gradually faded into dull discomfort, I relaxed, settling back and observing the people around me.

Three tables over, Owen and Zane sat with some of their other friends, sipping on sodas and trying to hold a conversation over the pounding bass.

Back in the center of the fray, Faith danced with Sierra, pride forgotten, surrounded by the kind of girls she normally wouldn't deign to speak to.

And, across the room, Jason stood with his hands in his pockets, looking bored and beautiful.

God, this has to be tedious for him.

Imagining the night from his point of view, what it would be like to stand around and supervise while other people had fun, made my heart ache for him.

As though he could hear my thoughts, he turned his head, eyes softening as he caught sight of me.

Warmth shot all the way down to my toes, and I smiled, holding his gaze.

He smiled back, a slight, subtle quirk of his lips.

Slow heat crept up my neck as I envisioned those lips on me, how they would feel, how they would taste...

Reaching behind me, I pulled my phone out of my purse, unlocking it and typing a quick message:

"How are you holding up?"

Glancing over at him, I watched as he got the notification, taking his phone out of his pocket and replying:

"Feeling ancient."

I felt my forehead crease into a frown, "What?"

"I haven't recognized the last three songs - I think that officially makes me an old man."

Sneaking a glance his way, I responded, "I wouldn't call you 'old'. Besides, the last three songs weren't that good anyway."

As I pressed "send", the music faded out, switching from boppy, high-energy pop to slow, soulful guitar and vocals.

My phone vibrated with a new message from Jason:

"Okay, now this one I recognize."

"Of course," I smirked, "this one's a classic."

His eyes narrowed as he typed, "'Classic'? I remember when this song came out."

Grinning, I teased, "...okay, you might be a *little* old."

Looking up, he glared at me, and I giggled mischievously.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nate approaching.

Shit.

He wove, unsteady on his feet, around the edges of the dance floor, bumping into chairs as he made his way toward our table.

Gritting my teeth, I typed, "Hang on, I have to deal with something." Then, sliding my phone back into my purse, I stood, walking over to Nate.

"Uh, hey - are you feeling okay?"

His head turned toward me, and he slurred, "Baby, I've never been better."

The sour odor wafting out of his mouth suggested otherwise.

Taking hold of his arm, I tried to help him to a seat, "Here, why don't we-"

My words cut off as I scanned my eyes over the room and found one of our assistant principals watching Nate suspiciously.

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