Three hours later, we’re at The Mill when Hallie sidles up next to me while I sit at a table with Adam and Madden. The girls have been off, being social butterflies and dancing, occasionally stopping for a drink or to chat before heading back off. It’s fun to watch, especially now knowing she’s completely mine.
“You’re not drinking,” she says, and I shake my head.
“I’ve gotta get us home one way or another.”
She bites her lip, pushing her drink away. “I’ll stop?—”
I grab it and pull it closer. “Hell no. I want a drunk and wild Hallie on my hands tonight.”
There’s a moment of hesitation before heat flares bright in her eyes. Then she grabs the drink from my hands and downs it before dancing off back to Wren and Nat.
I find out an hour after that, when Hallie is drunk, and we’re not hiding out, that Hallie is handsy.
So very handsy.
Every time she passes me, her fingers graze my arms, and her lips brush my cheek, or my temple, or my lips. When she spends longer at the table, she sits in my lap even though there’s an empty chair for her. She holds my hand and leans her head on my shoulder. It makes me both want to stay here indefinitely, enjoying being out in the open like this with her, and take her home to show herexactlyhow much I appreciate it and her.
I choose staying, if only that every time I turn, she’s laughing loud, dancing, and chatting, and I get to not only see the versionof Hallie I loved from afar for years but also to claim her. It’s fucking heaven.
I’m chatting with Madden and Adam at the table when Hallie comes back from dancing on the small, makeshift dance floor. She’s panting and reaching for her drink when I pull her into my lap and slide a glass of water before her. “Drink this.”
“No fun.”
“Neither is a hangover or passing out before I get my fill of you tonight. No Emma means no muffling.”
She looks at me with a pout, but drinks the water all the same. Once she’s done, she reaches for her drink again, and I laugh, shaking my head and pulling her into my lap before pressing a kiss to her neck. She sighs and melts back into me for a moment, and I could sit like this for the rest of my life, happily.
“Gross,” Wren says with a grimace.
“This is what you asked for, Wren,” Hallie reminds her.
“I didnotask for this.”
“All according to my plan, were your exact words,” Hallie counters, and my sister narrows her eyes at Hallie.
“And then I specifically told you I don’t want any of the details.”
“This is not me giving you details. This is me literallysitting on my boyfriend’s lap,” Hallie says, and when I look over Wren’s shoulder, Adam is watching them and fighting back a laugh. It seems he knows better than to laugh out loud at them.
I decide I should step in and end things before they go sour. My hands tighten on Hallie’s hips, and I press a kiss to her neck. The distraction works as planned, and she turns her head to look at me, a soft smile on her lips.
“Let’s dance,” she says, sliding out of my lap, grabbing my hand, and tugging it. “Come on.”
I let out a chuckle and shake my head. From beside me, Madden laughs as well. In his many attempts to get me to go outwith him as a wingman, he’s seen the fact that I cannot dance proven time and time again.
“Not my thing, Hal, you know that.” She scrunches her nose up at me, and I bend a bit, pressing my lips to the tip of it. “Hallie, I can’t dance.”
“A slow dance. I know you can do that, at least,” she whines, her arms locking around my neck.
Suddenly, dancing doesn’t seem so bad, not if I get a full three minutes with Hallie pressed against me. As if my weakness has been sensed, “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac interrupts some new pop song, and I look over my shoulder to my sister, who is smiling wide as if they had planned this. I shake my head, but slide my arm along her waist as I pull her in close.
“You’re kind of a tyrant,” I murmur against her lips, unable to stop myself from pressing them to hers.
“You love it,” she murmurs, and I don’t argue, because I do. We sway to the song for a minute or so, and I can’t seem to remember why I didn’t want to dance. Getting her all to myself for just a few minutes is exactly what I needed.
“I always loved this song,” she whispers after a bit.
I listen and let the words of the song move through me, since Hallie rarely says she likes something for no reason, without some more profound meaning. She might play whimsical and silly, but everything she does holds meaning, from half-birthday cakes that whisper that someone means so much she wants to celebrate them twice a year, to finding and relating to a motherless deer in the woods, to keeping all of her vision boards as reminders of who she’s been and what she’s wanted over the years. This song is no different, and when the lyrics sink in, I realize it’s the perfect song for her, about finding love but being afraid to chase it, about life changing around you and not being sure if you can handle it.
