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55. Convincing

My fingers grip my dress and lift it up so I can walk around Allen and clamber off of the stage. Landon is striding towards me when I round the side.

His smirk covers his face and makes his eyes crinkle at the sides. The band has started up again and they seem to enjoy the artist Hozier.

A rendition of Cherry Wine begins and I grip Landon's wrist to drag him out into the crowd. People scoot around us and try to accommodate space.

One of Landon's hands is placed firmly around my waist, the other latches around my hand. He looks so focused as he steps forward and backwards. I follow is lead and stare up at his furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips.

"I can feel your eyes on me," Landon whispers, his fingers tightening around mine, "stop staring."

I blush. I've been caught.

Frequently, I find myself staring at Landon. When he reads, when he drives. His gaze is always so concentrated.

"Sorry," I mutter quietly, failing at hiding my grin.

Landon's hand presses against the small of my back and he pulls me further into him. The warmth radiates off of him and I snuggle into his chest.

"If heaven doesn't smell like this," Landon breathes out, his nose in my hair, "I'm going to want a refund."

I toss my head back and laugh, ignoring the glares I get from the people quietly dancing around us.

The band playing fades into a Sinatra ballad and Landon hums it into my ear as he pulls me back into him.

"I've got you," his voice soothes my nerves from earlier, "under my skin."

I wrap my fingers around his bicep and let him pull me along in circles as we dance.

Several songs later, my feet ache. Landon keeps yawning against my head so I pat his chest and take a step back.

"Ready to go?" I tilt my head to the side at him and he pouts slightly.

"I figured you would have to stay, Miss Executive," he smiles at me and wiggles his fingers from mine and places his free hand on my hip.

"As you can tell by my speech," I grab the lapels of his suit jacket and smirk up at him, "I'm merely the CEO's daughter."

"Paige," Landon whispers aggressively, his hands pulling me into him, "you will never be merely anything."

I sigh into his neck and swallow hard. For a moment, I don't think I believe him. He's the only person who has ever told me different and the odds aren't exactly in his favor.

"Let's not talk about me," I say quietly, "how's about going home?"

Landon raises an eyebrow at me. I can tell he wants to burn the phrase into my mind but with a fractional shake of his head, he's dragging me towards the window where I dropped off my purse.

"Leaving so soon?" The young man that greeted me before smiles as I rest my hands against the counter.

"Yes, I'm quite tired." I nod at him and turn around to get the slip of paper from Landon.

There's only a crowd in my line of sight. People stumbling around with flutes of champagne in there hands. The open bar seems to have attracted a diverse crowd.

"Did you see the man that walked up here with me?" I look back at the boy on the other side of the counter and he nods.

"Walked off with the guy in the red shirt." He turns around and fiddles in a box. "Here's your bag."