"You're sure you've got him?" I asked anxiously.

        "Please. Your brother is a limp teddy bear," Lillian laughed, one hand on Logan's back for support.

        "Teddy bear? What teddy bear do you know that can handle crutches this well?" he asked indignantly.

        She gave him such a gooey smile that it was impossible not to smile myself. "Get in the car, then."

        He grunted. "Um....okay, maybe I'm not quite there yet."

        I laughed and kissed his cheek. "Night, Logan. It was good to see you."

        "Night, sis. I'll text you later," he said, returning the kiss to the cheek.

        I made sure he didn't faceplant in the snow (although that would've been funny) before turning to find my shoes. Most of the guests had left, meaning Graham was saying goodbye to Harry and Adam and Dani. Behind him, the living room was in disarray, littered with cups and paper plates.

        I said my goodbyes to Harry and Adam and Daniella, all of whom said to come to more Dragons events, then turned to Graham. It was hard not to outright stare at his arms, where the sleeves of his dress shirt were pushed up past his elbows. It was pathetic how I could swoon over his forearms.

        "Do you want help cleaning up?" I asked, nodding to his living room.

        He turned, silently taking the sight in. "Wow. Um, no, I'm okay. You should be getting home. Thanks, though."

        My lips twitched with a smile. "I really don't mind," I promised. I felt bad leaving him with this disaster of a house.

        "I mean, I'll take the company, but don't feel obligated," he said with a shrug that was so casual it hurt. Did he want me to stay? Of course not, not just for the company. But he sounded tired enough to want the help. So I kicked off my heels again and started grabbing mugs and cups.

        Graham went around with a trash bag, dumping paper plates and golden napkins in it. I followed with disinfectant wipes, because don't people know it's rude to leave stains of mayonnaise on a man's fireplace mantle?

        He dug the vacuum out from the closet, sucking up crumbs while I washed what few dishes there were. I couldn't tell if it was lazy or smart to buy all disposable dishes for a party like this, but either way, I appreciated it. Only a few pots and mugs for me to wash.

        By three in the morning, the place was back to its usual state of filthy rich perfection. Graham and I crashed hard onto the loveseat, facing the fire that was slowly starting to die. The last few flames were sputtering, holding on for dear life.

        Graham leaned back, his head on the back of the seat. "Thank you," he said, sounding relieved. "That was exhausting."

        "No problem." I felt like a towel someone had wrung out. My hair had come undone a long time ago, now limply hanging down. My feet hurt. I was getting too old to go to sophisticated parties.

        I yawned, trying to hide it, but it came out anyway and made my face crumple. Graham noticed, asking, "Are you okay to drive home?"

        I nodded, rubbing my eyes. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

        I should've gone to the door to put on my shoes. I should've grabbed my purse and found my car keys. I should've done anything except sit on the loveseat with Graham, with less than a foot of space between us.

        Being in his house always made me anxious. This was too personal, to see where he lived and how he organized his kitchen and if he took his shoes off (he did). Until this point, I'd never been in his house alone. I'd always come with Logan. It wasn't natural for me to be here. I was an awkward blob taking up space in a house that wasn't meant for me.

        Spending time alone with Graham was even worse. It was like having a ticking timer on his forehead, counting down to when he'd ask me to leave because why was I still here? I wasn't his friend. I wasn't his teammate. I wasn't anyone. It should've been my dream, to sit with him in his living room, just the two of us, but instead I felt like I was going to choke. Or maybe cry.

        "I should head home," I blurted out.

        Yet I didn't move from the loveseat.

        Graham was looking at me with his soft green eyes, his face expressionless. Why couldn't I get up? And why couldn't he say anything? It would've been better if he'd yelled at me to go; at least I would've known what to do and simultaneously gotten rid of the butterflies that seemed to love his gaze. And his face. And every single wonderful detail about him.

        Finally he asked, "Are...that is, do you want to go?"

        "I don't know," I whispered, my words betraying me. Because it's Graham, and I never know how to talk when I'm around him.

         He reached up, his fingertips gliding down the curve of my jaw. Soft against my skin, his touch sent sparks down my spine. Does he know? Looking at me, with his gaze focused, does he know how he makes me feel? That I can't stop thinking about him no matter how hard I try? That I constantly wish we were in another world, where maybe there's a chance he'd love me the same way I love him.

        "Evangeline," he said quietly.

         I nearly stopped breathing. My name, my full name, sounded like heaven on his tongue. No one ever called me that; it was always just Eve. I wanted to ask him why he would do that, but I couldn't. I couldn't bear to break the silence, the magical moment where he was still cradling my face like I meant something to him.

        It's hard to remember that I don't.

        Swallowing hard, I said, "Yes?"

        "Tell me if you want me to stop," Graham said, his expression changing. He looked anxious, if it was possible for him. "Tell me if this is wrong, Evangeline."

        I barely had time to process what that could mean before he kissed me, drawing me further into his arms and sending my heart soaring. His lips, soft yet firm, were everywhere on my mouth. Like he wanted to ensure that I'd remember this kiss. Of course I would; it was everything I'd dreamed about for the past three years. My hands slid to the back of his neck, feeling the feathery ends of his hair. Over the quiet of the room, I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. So loud. So very real.

         Graham shifted, laying me down on the cushions while he was bent over me. Still kissing me like a starving man. My hair was splayed out beneath me, my feet were dangling over the armrest, my arms were looped around his neck, and my skin was on fire. Heat poured off of Graham, seeping into me everywhere he touched me. His lips. One hand on my waist and burning through the thin material of my dress, the other beside my head for support.

        Unconsciously, or maybe it's intentional, I could feel myself pulling him closer by the back of his neck. I wanted this moment to last forever, to be permanently trapped underneath Graham while he kissed me completely senseless. The reaction my whole body is having was entirely blissful. It's everything I'd ever wanted, yet somehow even better, especially when he nipped at my lower lip. A soft hum resonated in the back of my throat and Graham tightened his grip on my waist. He wants this. He wants me.

        It's like a wild, heated dream. Except it's real. It's real, and-

        And this can't be right.

         Every reason I've given myself for not liking Graham still stands. Nothing has changed in the last five minutes. He's still him, I'm still me, and Logan is still very much in the equation. Which is why I break backwards, both of us breathing hard and looking at each other with painfully sharp gazes.

        He's not mine. He never will be.

         "I'm so sorry," I whispered, wiggling up out of his arms and somehow standing up without my skirt riding up. "I'm so, so sorry. I-I shouldn't have. Have a good night."

          "Eve?" It wasn't a request to stay, only a statement of confusion.

         "Happy New Years," I said bitterly, yanking on my coat and walking out the front door. I refused to cry, not now, not until I got home. So I drove back to my apartment, my eyes stinging and my throat tight.

          I was so stupid for loving him. Even more stupid for kissing him. For thinking that maybe, just maybe, he didn't think of me as dirt on his shoe. That maybe I was at least a friend.

          Now I'm just that girl he kissed on New Years Eve. The girl he shouldn't have kissed.

         Stupid.

A/n: Happy New Year's everyone! Hope you liked the double update <3