Who I Am With You (Imagination #10) - Staci Stallings

Chapter 1

Greg Everett had never had cause to think much about fairy tales. Oh, he’d heard about them. Sleeping Beauty. Snow White. Belle and her Beast. And of course, Cinderella. But because he’d never seen himself as anything even remotely resembling a prince, he’d never really given the whole idea much thought.

That was until he danced with Taylor Grayson.

Okay, it wasn’t the grand ball. It was New Year’s Eve at The Davenport, but it was as close as he would probably ever get to dancing with a real Cinderella. And it had been magical. As magical as all the fairy tales put together and then some.

She was beautiful and kind, wonderful with a sparkle that could not be denied no matter how hard he had tried over the years.

And they had danced like they belonged together. Which they did, in a completely platonic, Friend Zone kind of way.

If he just didn’t think about taking her home and her giving him that final, friend-hug on her front porch, he could almost make believe the night had been perfect.

So why did he wake up the next morning feeling like Prince Charming, standing on those steps, holding only the glass slipper?

“So how’s your New Year’s?” Yoli Sanchez asked Taylor when they connected at nearly one o’clock on New Year’s Day.

Trying not to remember the night before as being anything more than being out with friends, Taylor laughed softly. “Good. How about yours?”

“Good so far. LJ came over and we made waffles.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Even though she was trying not to, Taylor sighed.

“So,” Yoli said carefully, and Taylor knew what was coming, “how was last night?”

“It was fine.” Taylor picked at the pills on her comforter and flipped them off her fingers onto the floor. She shook her head and sighed again. “We had fun.”

“And…?” Yoli asked, clearly hearing more than Taylor was willing to say.

“And nothing. We went out. We ate… we danced…”

“Danced?” Yoli asked, and there were bells of hope in her voice.

Truthfully, Taylor could have chalked it all up to the fancy restaurant and everyone dressed to the nines and the view… if it just hadn’t been for the dancing. Of course, she had danced with Greg before, but never like that. Never.

“We couldn’t not dance,” she said, and she heard the defensiveness in her voice. “Everybody was dancing.”

“Okay…?” Yoli knew Taylor all too well, and she was obviously digging for more. But there wasn’t more. There wasn’t. Was there?

“I told you, it’s not like that with me and Greg,” Taylor said as dismissively as possible. “It’s not. We’re friends, and that’s all either of us wants from it.”

“Right. You said that before, but…”

“No, Yoli,” Taylor said, cutting off not just her friend but her own foolish thoughts about their evening being anything more than what it was—two single friends enjoying a night out because dating had become so ridiculously frustrating. “Just don’t. Okay? We’re friends. That’s it. That’s all either of us wants. Let’s just leave it at that.”

Yoli sighed. “Well, okay. If you say so.”

Not wanting to disturb the delicate equilibrium of her parents’ house and knowing that Paige and Nelson were out in the main area with her parents, Taylor decided that painting in her room sounded like a good way to break in the New Year. She selected her paints from her new supplies that were stashed in her closet. It would be nice to go over and paint with Lily, but there were lots of holes and traps in that idea.

One was that Lily might well be out, or in, with Mitchell, her new boyfriend.

Another was that, after last night, Taylor was sure Lily would have questions about her evening with Greg. Dismissing it all on the phone with Yoli was one thing, trying to dodge the questions with Lily all afternoon would be quite another.

She set the blank canvas next to the windowsill that was only a foot from the floor. Too bad the day was more dreary than nice, the light from the window would have been lovely. Not letting herself dwell too long on that, she laid out the plastic underneath herself, the paints, and the canvas. It was nice to have pursuits that didn’t involve needing other people.

Carefully, she laid out the paint brushes she had bought on her run to the store two days before. This was all so new to her, she was more practicing than anything. She selected one brush and transferred some blue paint and white paint to her palette,