Page 154 of Where We Stay

Fuck.

I force another smile and reach for the flowers. “Are these for me?”

Dean doesn’t let go of them straight away. “Blair.”

“Dean.”

For a second, neither of us moves. His expression tells me he doesn’t believe a word I’m saying, but eventually, his grip loosens.

I take the bouquet and look down at it. “Sunflowers?”

“You like them.” He shrugs as though it’s no big deal.

My chest aches.

Of course, tonight of all nights, he had to show up being exactly who he is.

“They’re beautiful,” I tell him.

“So are you.”

I look away before he can see how close I am to crying. “Come on. We should go before I ruin my makeup.”

Dean hesitates, watching me for another second before offering me his hand.

He knows I’m lying.

He just doesn’t know how much.

* * *

Dean reaches across the center console and takes my hand, his thumb brushing slowly over my knuckles.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, glancing over at me.

I lace my fingers through his and force myself to breathe. “I’m sure.”

Lie number three.

A horn blares from the car passing beside us, and I flinch so hard my hand nearly slips out of Dean’s.

His eyes snap toward me. “Jesus, Blair.”

“It startled me.” I force out a laugh, but it sounds wrong even to me.

Dean doesn’t respond. He just tightens his hand around mine and turns his attention back to the road.

He knows something is wrong. He just has no idea a handful of words have reached across five years and wrapped themselves around my throat.

Tonight was supposed to be ours.

I’m going to pretend it still is for as long as I can.

Thirty

Dean

Blair has spent the last fifteen minutes pushing food around her plate and pretending to engage in conversation.