All-American Princess - Maggie Dallen Page 0,55

that lopsided smile that made my chest ache and my belly do flip-flops. “You look beautiful, Lila.”

Oh God, so did he. Beautiful might not have been the right word for it, but his mussed dark hair was neat, and his suit, while not tailored or designer, made him look older. Mature. He looked like a man and not a teenage boy.

Which… maybe he was. He’d be eighteen this year, as would I. We would be honest-to-God grown-ups, so I supposed it was fitting that for the first time in my life, I’d made a grown-up choice. A mature choice. I’d made a decision that, for once, wasn’t about me.

Hooray?

I’d made the right choice, I knew that. So, why did it hurt so bad?

I met his gaze and held it, drowning in the emotions there and letting myself dream for one more moment that maybe things could be different. That I could be different.

That this could be real.

But neither of us were kids anymore. I couldn’t go on acting like one, living in a fairytale world where I could start over and live someone else’s life.

I had a life, and it was back in L.A. With Tess and my father… and now Brandon. The reality of my situation hit me like a punch in the gut. Just like that, the magic of the night was replaced by a cold certainty as my feet landed back on the ground.

“He left,” I said, my voice coming out quiet and sad. I could do what I had to do, but that didn’t mean I had to be happy about it. I met his gaze. “I have to go too.”

His gorgeous smile faded fast. “What?”

“I have to go,” I said again, firmer this time. More words threatened to come out. Explanations, justifications. His friend needed me. My friend needed me. For once, I’d do the right thing, the responsible thing.

I drank in one last, long gaze, trying to tell him all the things I couldn’t say.

I was doing this for him in a way. Or at least because of him. He made me want to be better, to be different.

Well, what was more different than for Delilah Devereaux to do something selfless for once, right?

I let out a long breath that was part sigh and part humorless laughter. For once in my life, I was trying to do the right thing by thinking about someone other than myself, and yet I was still going to hurt people. One person. I was going to hurt Jack.

My heart broke in two at the thought.

“Stay,” Jack said. His voice was quiet but firm, and underneath it all, there was the tiniest hint of pleading.

I steeled myself against tears as I shook my head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

He took a step toward me, but I backed away, and once my feet started moving, I didn’t stop. I saw him reach for me, and I opened my mouth to say… what? I’m sorry? I love you?

No. I couldn’t say any of that. The L-word scared the crap out of me, and I wasn’t sure that I was sorry about this decision. It was the right thing to do. It sucked, and it made me want to scream, but it was the right thing to do. The longer I stood here, the better the chance that I’d change my mind, that I’d let him pull me into his arms and kiss me senseless. The longer I stood here staring into those dark, brooding eyes, the weaker I’d become.

“Lila,” he started.

I turned and ran.

It wasn’t until I was back in my car that I stopped to breathe.

Okay, fine. I cried. Just a little. I’d never been big on tears, and this was so not the time to start turning into some weeping ninny over a guy I’d likely never see again.

That thought did nothing to squelch the tears running down my cheeks. I turned on the car. I had bags to pack and arrangements to make.

Daddy would need to know that he’d gotten his way.

Again.

Like always.

Brandon MacMillan was coming home, and I’d be at his side.

A little while later, I was home and packing. Tess seemed to get that I didn’t want to talk. Or maybe she was just too busy to pry as she went about making arrangements for the three of us to be on the next flight out of this hellhole.

A hellhole I was going to miss like crazy.

I pressed my lips together as that maudlin thought crept through