Situationship [Complete]

28 | Kiss

TRIGGER WARNING: The following chapter contains discussions of an eating disorder. 

Heath pulls me through the crowd with him by the hand, weaving through the anonymous people in black dresses and tuxes. It seems so easy. Too easy.

We run into a group talking to my parents and he stops. My heart jumps into my throat. Mom spots him and her eyes widen. "Heath! Darling!" He snakes an arm around my waist, turning me to him and away from her. She can't see I've been crying if she can't see me. "It feels like forever since we've seen you. How have you been? How is the family?"

"Everyone is doing great, Mrs. H. Thank you for asking."

I place my hand on his shoulder and rest my chin on top of it. Looking back and taking a deep breath, I lock eyes with Lenny.

He stands with some of our dads' associates. They talk, but all he does is stare at me. His expression is unreadable, but Heath's hand on my hip and my smudged lipstick paints quite a picture, I assume. I turn my head back to look at Heath and find him already looking at me. He takes a step and my hope returns.

"Tell your parents I said hello, won't you?" my mom adds.

"Absolutely."

He shields me from view until we slip through the front doors of the banquet hall. When my heels sink into the hallway's carpet, I can't believe it.

Just like that. I'm free.

He pushes the button for the elevator and we wait. The crowd visible through the open doors keeps the last of my fear from subsiding, but next to him, I feel safe. His hand strokes up and down my back as if to say, you're okay. I realize I'm clutching onto him.

The elevator chimes and we step on with some others from the party. When the doors close, a sense of relief hits me like a tsunami. I breathe away the tears that come to my eyes, refusing to cry with witnesses.

Without saying a word, Heath pulls me against his chest. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his shoulder. My tears fade.

"I'm sorry I was late," he says beneath the volume of the elevator's crooning jazz. His expression is apologetic. Morose, in a way. It surprises me.

"It's okay."

The shadow of a smirk twitches on his lips. "Really?"

I rub my hand up and down his chest. "Really."

The elevator stops and the couple next to us gets off. Heath keeps looking at me with those gray eyes. 

I don't know what I'm thinking—if I'm thinking at all—but when the doors close, I lean closer. He doesn't move away. My eyes drop to his lips as they brush over mine to tease them apart, and with a sigh, he kisses me.