Deep (Stage Dive, #4)(18)

He looked up and found me staring. There was no censure in his eyes. Just the same, embarrassment threatened to flood me, turning my face to red. But he stopped and stared at me too. If our breathing and hearts were beating in exactly the same rhythm, it wouldn’t have surprised me. It was crazy. I should have known better by now.

There was just me and him.

Things were said and I heard my sister’s laughter.

His gaze strayed down over my dress then back up again. Little lines appeared beside his eyes, his face tensing. As for me, my jaw ached from all the things I was holding in, all the words left unsaid. Or maybe it was just more of the same, the urge to convince him that there was something real between us that was worth the risk. Some jumble of sex and friendship and I don’t know what. The fabled connection.

In all likelihood, he still wouldn’t want to hear it. The man made my head and my heart hurt.

“No, you’re not doing it right.” The pronouncement split my focus, my gaze darting to the front of the room. Something was wrong in wedding town.

“I’ll do it,” Mal told Santa Elvis.

The King just shrugged. Guess he got paid either way.

“Of course you, Anne, take me, Mal,” he proceeded, my sister still held high in his arms. “You’re my Pumpkin, my whole damn world. You get my music and all my weird moods, and you think I’m funny when other people are just shaking their heads wondering what the f*ck I’m on about. I think it’s cute when you have your little hissy fits, but if you need me to listen and take shit serious, I promise I will. Good times or bad, you’re with me and I’m with you. No matter what, we’ll always work stuff out together, okay?”

“Okay,” said my sister, raising a hand to wipe a tear from her face.

“You’re the only woman I want or need, and no way are you into any other guy, ’cause you got me and I’m awesome. We good?”

“We’re good.”

“Right,” said Mal. “We’re married.”

“They’re married!” shouted Santa Elvis, throwing in a hip swivel just for fun.

Music started up again and the room filled with the sounds of clapping and cheering. Mal’s and Anne’s mouths were melded together. I wanted that, what they had together, and without a doubt it would be worth waiting for. After spending seven years believing love had to be just so much bullshit, I couldn’t give up on it again now. That was the truth. One day I’d find someone else who made me feel like Ben did.

I just had to wait it out.

Santa Elvis started beating out “Viva Las Vegas” while those assembled went wild. Everyone apart from me and Ben. Shit. I’d pretty much missed the entire ceremony. Thank goodness, Mal’s dad appeared to be taping it. Worst sister ever. I went to start clapping, like everyone else, then remembered the posies of flowers still gripped tight in my hands. Whoops, better not.

So many happy smiling faces—except for one. Oh great, my mom was here. From the other side of the room, her mouth wrinkled, brows drawn in tight. Seemed my initial lack of attention on the bride and groom hadn’t escaped everyone’s notice. Her gaze darted between me and Ben, her frown deepening. Might be best if I avoided dear mama for the rest of the night. Possibly the next decade too, just to be safe. The last thing I needed was for Jan to decide to start sticking her nose back into my life now.

No, thank you.

“Little sister,” Mal cried, bearing down on me with arms wide open.

He’d obviously finally set Anne down, because she was busy being tag-team squeezed by David and Ev. My new brother-in-law basically tackle-hugged me, picking me up around the waist and squeezing me crazytown tight. Breathing … so passé.

“This is going to be great. I always wanted a little sister,” he said. “Older sisters are okay, I mean, don’t get me wrong. But little sisters are way more fun, right?”

I just kind of wheezed.

“And you wait until you see what I got you for your birthday. Best. Present. Ever.”

“Dude, put her down before you f*cking break her,” said Ben with some urgency.

“What?” Mal deposited me back on my feet. Thank god.

I gave my sore ribs a rub, taking nice deep breaths. “There was a touch too much love in that hug.”

“Oops. Sorry, little sis.”

“All good.” I grinned, still catching my breath. “Congratulations.”

“Yeah. Congrats, man,” said Ben. They shook hands vigorously, followed by some shoulder slapping.

“Thanks, dude.”

Without missing a beat, the drummer moved on to his next love hug victim. Which left me and Ben staring at each other again. Not awkward at all.

“You look great, Lizzy.”

“You too.” I couldn’t meet his dark eyes any longer, so instead I studied his shoes. A nice safe target. The big black boots made for quite a dramatic contrast against the cream marble floor.

He said nothing.

And yeah, okay, I was done. “Have a nice night.”

“Liz, wait—”

“Must mingle.”

His hand hooked my arm. “Wait. I want to talk to you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I pulled my elbow free.

“Please.”

That one simple word did it, made me hesitate. Stupid soft me. “Okay. Maybe later.”