I Knew You Were Trouble - Cassie Mae Page 0,62

at her censorship and let her pass me. A dark cloud descends over my head the closer we get to Zach, but her determination is cute. And I think I’m still a little high off that unexpected hug.

I spot him right away, hanging out with a couple of Candace’s classmates—I assume, anyway. She’s still searching, peering over heads, her hair whipping around. I should be the good guy and point him out, but I let her play Where’s Waldo for a few seconds first.

“Thirty seconds!” I hear someone shout, and cheers erupt in the room. Someone passes me a glass of champagne, and I take it and lean down to Candace.

“He’s by the fireplace.” I nudge her forward, even if it pains me to do it, and give her an encouraging grin—at least I hope it comes off that way.

She throws me a nervous smile and then bounces toward Zach. She went for a dress tonight—light and sparkling, not unlike the champagne in my glass. It seems more her style, even with her legs poking out.

“Ten, nine…”

I rest my back on the wall, my arm hanging down my side, the flute still in my hand. Candace sidles up to Zach, in perfect position, her smile lighting the entire room. He grins back and leans down, whispering something in her ear that makes her blush.

I almost lose the grip on my champagne glass.

“…six, five…”

This is what she’s been working toward. All the time we spent together, the holey outfits, the ride on Gertrude… All for him. He better damn well appreciate everything she did for him. Not that she’ll ever say a thing.

Well, she might blurt it out one of these days. The thought makes me laugh and die inside.

“…three, two…”

My heart thumps one last beat and flops like a dead fish into the pit of my stomach. I take a swig of my drink right before the room shouts, “Happy New Year!”

Poppers explode, champagne glasses clink, and pairs start to kiss in every direction.

I should take my eyes off her; I don’t know if I’ll like what I see when it happens, but I can’t help but watch the hopeful look on her face, the excitement, the nerves. With the confetti falling around her, she’s never looked more beautiful. Who wouldn’t want to kiss that?

Zach meets her eyes, and now is the time to look away, but I’m a damn masochist, and I stare like a fool, half hoping she gets what she wants and half hoping she doesn’t.

Time slows, and my brow furrows the longer it takes for Zach to lean in. Candace’s hopeful grin falters, diminishing by the second. Pain and hurt and confusion all swirl in her expression in quick succession, one right after the other.

Still no kiss.

My blood runs wild under my skin, and the heart I thought was dead jumps to life. Suddenly I’m offended for her. No, beyond that. I’m angry. Angry that this guy won’t do a damn thing. Angry she’s put all this effort in for someone who doesn’t care. Angry he won’t deliver a kiss in the perfect setting, with the perfect girl.

He starts to turn from her. I push off the wall and set my flute down with so much force it tips over. I’m too determined to cross the room to see what damage I’ve done, squeezing through people, my heart thumping in my ears.

She’s going to get a kiss, damn it. She deserves a kiss, even if it comes from me.

My feet thud from hardwood floor to area rug, crunching against confetti and crinkle paper. Candace blinks slowly, her eyes growing a wall of tears as Zach turns completely away from her, heading from the fireplace to the kitchen. She swipes a hand quickly under her eye, rubbing the black mascara to her temple.

“Excuse me,” I grunt, still trying to get across the room. How did she navigate it so quickly? Or has time continued to make no sense?

I trip over the corner of the rug by the fireplace, making a sloppy entrance, but I don’t give a shit. My hands find her cheeks, turn her head, and without a chance to change my mind, I press my lips to hers.

A squeak of surprise escapes her throat, electrifying my nervous system. She tastes like cinnamon, her cheeks soft under my rough skin. The lightest touch zaps through my elbows, her fingers curling into my jacket.

I know I need to stop kissing her; I’ve given more than just a