Breaking the Plan by Jessica Calla

Author:Jessica Calla [Calla, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jessica Calla
Published: 2019-06-18T04:00:00+00:00

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Taryn

Our eyes met every time I’d glance into the crowd. Oliver circled me, looking amazing in his tuxedo. Big guys always looked awkward and uncomfortable in tuxes. On Ollie, well, he looked like a black tie runway model. And to make the look more irresistible, he’d done something with his hair. Instead of his unruly curls, it was shorter, gelled or something into adorable swirls.

I tried to ignore the fact that he’d heard my admission about being homeless. I hadn’t wanted to make myself more of a spectacle than I already was as Miss Lovely New Jersey, but I did want to thank people for donating to charity, especially this one. Of course, I didn’t think I’d know anyone there either. I was glad Oliver didn’t seem frazzled by my admission.

When he’d greeted me after my speech, he must have turned on a GPS in my body. No matter where he went in the room of hundreds, I’d see him. I’d talk with the people posing for pictures with me and then look into the crowd, and he’d be there with that grin on his face.

I felt his eyes on me, every minute. Heard his laugh from across the room like we were the only two people there. My nipples hardened in the halter dress’s built-in bra, my fingers danced over my thighs as I imagined touching him, and my breathing became ragged when my thoughts took me too far. I was certain my thong was soaking wet from my reaction.

At one point, I had to excuse myself to go to the ladies’ room and calm myself down. When I looked in the mirror, I groaned at my flush, certain that everyone in the room could read my thoughts. I didn’t mean to react like that to my best friend’s ex-boyfriend, but it was like my body knew something my brain didn’t. Or maybe it was my heart that knew. Something in me wanted him.

Since the crowd had moved onto dessert and my commitment was winding down, I walked back to the ballroom and told the pageant photographer he could leave. He packed up his things and gave me his card. He’d scribbled his personal cell number on the back. I almost laughed because it wasn’t him I wanted. At all.

I sat at the table with the charity directors during dessert but didn’t eat anything. They all thanked me for my speech, telling me they appreciated the personal aspect I’d shared to inspire them to continue their work. They asked me to be a spokesperson for the charity, but I politely declined, citing school and my Miss Lovely New Jersey commitment. Some of the ruder people at the table made comments about how I’d skipped dessert, assuming I was on a diet since I had to look good all the time. That wasn’t really the case—anxious energy had killed my appetite.

Finally, the band started up again and people strayed from the tables to dance. I waited, knowing he’d come to me.

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