The Mistake (Bad Bridesmaids #1) - Noelle Adams Page 0,9
just shook his head.
“I can’t believe you!”
“What can’t you believe?” The coolness of his voice was an affront to the pleasant whirling of her mind.
“You won’t dance with me?”
“No.”
“Don’t you like me?” She didn’t intend to sound quite so pitiful, but she couldn’t control the way the words were coming out.
“I do like you. And I’d like you even more if you’d sit down next to me and drink a glass of water.”
She stuck her tongue out at him since it was the only gesture that could embody exactly her mood at the moment. “You just want me to not be drunk.”
“You said you weren’t drunk.”
“I’m not. But I’m a little bit buzzed, and I like it. So I’m going to dance.”
Having given him an appropriately blistering denouncement, she turned on her heel and stomped off, wishing the chiffon in her dress didn’t billow quite so dramatically as she flounced.
Billowing chiffon didn’t match with her dignified rejection of Robert and all that he stood for.
Wouldn’t dance with her.
Disgraceful.
She’d find a man who would. That would show him.
She saw Charles Kensington sitting at a table alone across the room, reading something on his phone. When she reached him, she said, “Will you dance with me, Charles?”
She’d known Charles most of her life. They’d gone to the same school. He was a few years older than her, but they’d traveled in the same circles for a long time. He’d moved out of the city last year since he wanted peace to work on writing a novel, so she hadn’t seen him in a while. But she’d always liked him well enough. And he was an available man with whom to prove her point to Robert.
Charles looked surprised as he lowered his phone. “I’m not much of a dancer.”
“That’s okay. I’ll do all the work. You just need to stand there if you don’t mind.”
He gave a little laugh but stood up without hesitation. “All right. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She was giggling as she took Charles’s arm.
She was going to dance.
And Robert would have to sit there and watch.
Served him right.
Her mind was a little blurry, but she knew Robert had done to her a great indignity, and he deserved to be punished for it.
So there.
ROBERT WONDERED IF he’d made a mistake.
Maybe he should have danced with Amanda.
He’d told her the truth. He wasn’t a dancer. He’d never been one of those people who could stroll out onto the dance floor and feel comfortable. He’d assumed it was just a tipsy whim of hers since she’d never appeared particularly predisposed to dance much herself. He’d been enjoying the evening, drinking enough for a pleasant buzz but not enough to lose his judgment or inhibitions. He’d had a good time talking and laughing with her and making ironic observations about the wedding attendees.
He’d thought they were having a good time, but she’d seemed so offended when he’d told her he wasn’t going to dance.
Not that he’d ever been too concerned about sparing other people’s feelings. He tried to be a decent man and not hurt others if he could help it, but he said what he thought most of the time, whether or not the other person wanted to hear it. But beneath her clever insouciance—fueled by the champagne—there was something fragile about Amanda tonight.
He had the strangest impulse to protect it. Protect her. So maybe he should have agreed to dance.
He hadn’t. And now she was on the dance floor with dull Charles Kensington.
What the hell was she doing with him?
At least it wasn’t a slow dance. The music was a silly, upbeat pop song, so there wasn’t much touching involved in the way they were moving together. But still...
It made him want to scowl to see her swinging her hips and laughing with the other man.
He’d obviously drunk more than he should if he was resenting something like that. Amanda wasn’t his. She’d never been his, and she never would be. He had absolutely no right to feel this possessive jealousy regarding her.
He shouldn’t be feeling anything of the kind. She’d agreed to get drunk with him because he was there when she’d been feeling vulnerable. Now she’d recovered from the moment and was back to her normal self, which wanted nothing to do with him.
Just as well.
The things he’d been feeling tonight had not been safe or logical or characteristic of him. No sense in encouraging that in himself.
Better to go back to normal where he stayed on