Mine Would Be You (18)

Nina’s just as gorgeous as she was that night. The red dress she has on compliments her warm brown skin, full lips that are always slightly pouty, from what I remember, and big brown eyes that are somehow soft and cautious all at once. I may not know her well at all, but from what I’ve seen, no matter the situation, she carries herself with a quiet but formidable confidence.

I take a long pull of the old fashioned in my hand as I lean against the wall taking a break. Roman, my longest and closest friend aside from Myles, walks my way. “Who are you looking at?”

Roman is Emma’s older friend from childhood, but we met freshman year of college when he came to play football. He’s basically been my other brother ever since. Knows me better than I know myself some days.

With a quick nod in Nina’s direction, he pockets his hands. “Brown hair?”

“Nina, Myles’s ex-girlfriend.”

He whistles lowly, taking a sip of his own drink. “Oh. Shit.” He grins.

I shrug. “It’s not a big deal. I met her a few months ago in a bar and didn’t realize who she was until today.”

I especially notice how she squares her shoulders and glances at her friends when Myles asks her to dance. Despite myself, I take a long drink, my eyes glued on both of them as he walks beside her to the dance floor. Her shoulders are held back, tightly so, and she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear before letting him guide her into a dance.

Roman shoulders me, the grin faded into an amused look on his face. “You’re staring.”

I exhale. “I don’t think I care.”

He chuckles and pats me on the back. “Well, go talk to her after then. She looks—” He hesitates, and I finally tear my eyes away to give him a questioning look. “Miserable. She looks miserable out there with him.”

This time I chuckle, finishing the drink and spinning the glass in my hands. Roman’s right. She does look miserable. They’re standing so far apart it’s a miracle they touch at all, and in the background, her friends are staring without a single blink. The music plays overhead, and they spin slowly, among the crowd on the floor. Nina looks almost anywhere but directly at Myles.

“All right, well, I’m going to leave you to pine and go.” Roman pats my back with a grin as he strides away before I can respond. Directly towards Nina’s friends, specifically the red head.

Seems like I’m not the only one infatuated with someone at this wedding.

Obviously, I’m not going to interrupt whatever is happening in that conversation between the two of them., but I know without a doubt, I’m not leaving without talking to her again. Without chasing whatever high I felt when I met her in February. No matter how brief it had been then.

Easily, I keep my eyes on her, study her. It’s weird to be seeing her here after that night in February. Trailing my eyes over her slow-moving figure, I appreciate the red against her warm brown skin, the way it hugs her curves and flares, and the scattered black ink on her skin. Everything about her has captivated me since we met.

Luckily for me, Emma strides towards them with a smile, and I bide my time, watching and waiting until Nina walks away. So I can swoop in and make her forget about Myles entirely.

Or at least, I’m going to try.





“I’m really glad you came.”

The inside of my cheek is raw from biting it so hard. Every so often the familiar metallic taste fills my mouth.

I look up, forcing my lips into a soft smile. “I’m happy for you. You look really happy.”

We sway in silence to the beat of the song, and I feel my friends’ eyes on me. They’re both seated at our table, bent forward on their elbows watching me like a parent watches their child on the playground for the first time as they sip their drinks. Although, between death glares at Myles, Harper is also talking to a handsome man sitting to her right. By the knowing look on Sloan’s face, I know she’s interested.

Myles’s hands are placed very lightly on my waist, and I hold my own awkwardly on his shoulders. It’s weird. Tiptoeing around each other. There’s a strange amount of a space between us—the kind that would totally be appropriate at a middle school dance. I don’t particularly want to be dancing with him, but when he came over after food and speeches while Emma was dancing with some of her friends, I was already two drinks in, and I felt like I couldn’t say no.

I wish I had, because it’s as if we’re dancing on a glass ceiling, looking down at the sheer height beneath us, and if we make one wrong step it’ll shatter into a million pieces, and we’ll go with it.

“I am, really,” he says, but he trails off. His shoulders tense under my fingertips as he takes a deep breath. “Nin.”

Instead of the old feeling I used to get, heart flutters and sweaty palms, I flush with annoyance. Because he doesn’t have the right to call me that anymore.

“I just wanna say, I want to tell you—”

My heart thunders in my chest, not sure what kind of sentence his jumbled words are going to form. Thankfully, Emma appears next to us, effectively cutting him off, a warm smile on her face as she taps his shoulder and glances at me.

“I’m sorry, can I steal him away?” she asks, kindness dripping off her tongue, and I return the smile, dropping my hands and stepping back from Myles without a second thought.