Heather wanted to believe him. So desperately. It was just . . .
“Heather, I—” His fingers tightened on her arms, and his eyes stared into hers as though trying to tell her something. Begging her to understand.
But she didn’t understand. Didn’t understand any of this.
“You think I’ve been sleeping around on you?” he asked, not finishing his sentence.
She looked away. “I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to ask, because you’ve been so clear that it’s just sex.”
“As have you,” he challenged.
Yes, but that’s changing, her heart cried.
“Fine, you want to do this?” he said, resting his forehead on hers. “I didn’t sleep with Kitty that night. I swear it. Not any woman since I kissed you at that fussy brunch of yours. I don’t know when I stopped bringing them home, but I do know that it had everything to do with you. It was annoying, but I couldn’t quite seem to stop thinking about the girl in 4C.”
Heather’s heart leapt, and she slowly lifted her hands to his wrists, wrapping her fingers around his warm, firm flesh, feeling his pulse steady and strong.
Steady like him.
More so than she’d given him credit for.
The truth of the matter was, she loved him, plain and simple.
She loved the annoying neighbor in 4A, who made her laugh and was there for her, and who took her home with him on Thanksgiving so she wouldn’t be alone, and who helped her plan a wedding, and not just any wedding, but the wedding of his ex.
He was good.
He was the best.
He was everything.
“Josh—”
“Ten! Nine! Eight . . .”
She jolted a little at the sudden chorus of drunken shouting coming from behind them. The countdown to midnight. She’d all but forgotten that they were at a crowded party, much less that it was New Year’s Eve.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice urgent. Maybe a little bit desperate.
“Four, three—”
She shook her head. A reprieve. She had a reprieve from telling him how she felt.
“Two, one. Happy New Year!”
There was a barrage of the noisemakers Seth and Brooke had supplied as “Auld Lang Syne” blared from the sound system, but Heather didn’t hear any of it.
Because Josh’s mouth was on hers, his lips sweet and tender as they poured a world of meaning into the kiss. Heather didn’t know how long they stood there, her arms wrapped around his neck, his around her waist, and it took her several seconds to register that someone was saying her name.
She slowly pulled away from Josh, relishing the warmth in his eyes before she turned to Jessie, who was now tugging on her arm like an impatient child.
“Sorry,” Jessie said, her eyes bright with excitement. “But you two will have to finish that later. Did you hear? Brooke and Seth are engaged.”
Heather’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
Jessie nodded happily, orange curls bouncing all over the place. “Seth pulled her into their bedroom at midnight. Nobody noticed they disappeared, but when they came out . . . bling city! I need to get myself a billionaire hotel tycoon, that’s for sure.”
Heather was already scanning the room for her friend, catching a glimpse of Brooke’s blond hair and happy smile in a break in the crowd, before Brooke got swallowed by the well-wishers.
She glanced back at Josh. “I have to—”
He winked. “Go. I’ll be around.”
Heather and Jessie fought their way through the crowd to get to their friend, and though Heather’s heart was bursting with happiness for her friend, she couldn’t resist a quick glance over her shoulder at Josh.
He was watching her, and grinned when she met his gaze. But her own smile faltered, because she could have sworn that amid the crowd and the festive mood and the celebration, Josh Tanner suddenly looked rather alone.
And very, very sad.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
DO YOU THINK WE even want to mentally add up the cost of these bottles?” Logan asked, holding up three empty champagne bottles in each hand as Josh held open a garbage bag.
“I doubt it,” Josh said, eyeing the label. “That shit’s the good stuff. Seth certainly goes all out for New Year’s Eve.”