A Love Like Ours

Chapter 35

"Are you just going to stand there?" Lou asked then, a light laugh to her voice.

I'd known without having to look that she was talking to me.

I closed my mouth, not recalling precisely when it had fallen open, and tried to summon words. But then I met Madelyn's eye again, and her smile had gone sort of shy, her cheeks had gone sort of pink, and I couldn't speak all over again.

"He's speechless," Glenne said. "Good work, ladies."

Mads had moved closer to me then, and my eyes fell to the way the dress moved around her. She held up some of the skirt in one hand, but a small train circled out behind her feet, the fabric sweeping across the wood floors as she stepped forward.

"Harry?" she'd asked. My eyes were on her other hand now, the one clutching a small silver bag I hadn't noticed before.

"Hm?" I'd looked up to find her blue eyes locked on mine, an amused smile on her lips.

She dropped the dress and reached out, laced her fingers with mine. "I'll take your silence to mean you like it?"

I'd laughed out loud then, holding her hand and staring down at the red blotches on her chest. Her hands were a bit clammy, and I had to remember that she was nervous—that this, my approval right in this moment, was just the first of many things weighing on her about tonight.

"Mads," I'd said, glancing down at her dress, at her body in that dress. It fit her like a glove. I raised my brows. "'Like it' doesn't even begin to cover all that I'm feeling over the sight of you in this dress. You're—you're exquisite."

She'd smiled so widely then, looked so excited, I could feel her happiness radiate in my chest with each heartbeat. "You don't look so bad yourself."

Mads had leaned forward, and pressed her lips to mine quickly, but not quickly enough that someone—Lou—had shouted, "Watch the lipstick!"

Mads breathed a laugh onto my mouth and pulled away, glancing down at my lips before lifting a finger and swiping away some of the color she'd left behind.

"I meant on you," Lou had said to Mads, leaving us both giggling, our excitement too much to keep contained.

My excitement was still hard to contain. Staring at Mads now, sitting so close to her in the backseat of this car while she was in that dress—I already couldn't wait for the evening to be over.

But her eyes—wide with excitement as we left the house, as we waved goodbye to the girls where they stood at the door—were wide with something else now as we pulled up to the Staples Center, pausing in a line of cars waiting to drop off other guests.

"Holy shit," Mads breathed, her eyes on the stream of cars, the crowds of people—the carpet wasn't even in sight yet.

I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed the top of it. "It's going to be fine."

People screamed as someone ahead stepped out of their car, and Mads' eyes went even wider at the sound—the sheer volume of it. Our car crawled forward. There were three ahead of us now. "Harry, I—I don't know if I can do this."

"Mads..."

"I mean, what if I trip or something? What if I fall flat on my face in front of all these people?"

"Mads, I'll—"

"Or what if I just clam up completely and can't talk during any of the interviews? What if they ask me questions and I can't respond?"

"Madelyn, I—"

"I shouldn't have worn this dress."

"I—what?"