“Well, if your big-mouthed friend had given me half a chance I would have asked you to come with me to the Summer Charity Ball next Saturday evening.” He stares hard at Lottie and sheshrinks into her seat, picking up the martini that has just been placed on the table.
“Eeek, sorry!” she squeaks out, looking toward Spike who affectionately shakes his head at her opening her big mouth.
“So will you come?” Denham asks tentatively.
I hear Lottie snort at his question and it’s my turn to dig her in the arm with my elbow. An opportunity to turn an innocent question into something rude never escapes her.
“OW! Well, come on, Ari, that’s kind of an open-ended question, don’t ya think?” she squeaks at me.
“Well, I kinda think the answer depends on how good you treat her, D man…” Spike teases. They both dissolve into fits of giggles and it’s hard to even pretend to berate them.
Denham has one elbow on the table and his head in the palm of his hand.
“It’s like having a couple of teenagers around with you guys. Arianna, I’m sorry about the two idiots sitting next to you, but I’d really like it if you would accompany me to the charity ball next Saturday.”
“I would love to come with you, but can we talk about this in the morning when I’ll remember all the details?”
“Sure thing, Stunner.”
“Ari!” Lottie jumps up. “This is our song!”
Lowby Flo Rida is guaranteed to get us up and dancing wherever we are. She motions to Spike to down his shot with her, so he flicks a match and lights the clear liquid and they down it at the same time. Their faces scrunch up and I’m so pleased they didn’t insist on me doing that; it would be more than I can take.
“Come on!” she shrieks. She is out of her seat and grabbing my hands before I can blink, dragging me to the illuminated glass dance floor. The lights flash in time with the music and it doesn’t take long for us to be swept away with the tunes and let loose. After the champagne in the Limo and knocking back the dirtymartini, I’m feeling fuzzy around the edges but not too drunk I can’t feel my feet. There are happy vibes all around me and other than the bimbo waitress earlier, I don’t catch a sly look or nasty vibe anywhere.
Lottie and I dance for maybe five songs before I decide that I need a drink. The dance floor is starting to get crowded and there’s a small part of me that would like to go see my man.
Myman? I don’t know where that thought comes from, it’s out of the blue. Or is it? Have I actually felt like that from the very second I crashed into his hard body and he flashed those wicked golden-flecked eyes at me?
Maybe I’m crazy, but I’m all right with it.
I also know that I need to revisit this thought when I’m fully sober and not under any influence.
Robin Thicke’sBlurred Linesstarts to play and Lottie mouths, “Oh my god.” I follow the direction of her eye line and the crowd starts to whoop and cheer as I see two very familiar bodies getting their groove on.
What’s sexier than Denham King?
Denham King dancing.
He moves as if it’s as easy as breathing, and it looks like he and Spike have a little routine going on.
“Is this a party trick they do?” I question Lottie,
“Every time we come here…they dance.” She sighs dreamily. “Ari, you’re in for a treat with Denham, girl. He can sing, dance, and by the sway of his hips right now, I’d say the dude can make sweeeeet music.”
If it was anyone else who’d just said that I might have had to resist the urge to scratch her eyes out, but by the way she’s ogling Spike, I have no doubt that she only has eyes for one of them. Lottie makes no apologies for saying what she thinks, and in this instance, I think she’s right
I watch, mesmerized. Anyone would think I’ve never seem a mandance. I have. The main thing here is that I’ve never seenmyman dance.
My man.
I can’t help it.
I like it.
I want it, him, so badly.
The song finishes and Denham and Spike bow to a crowd of excited onlookers. They high five each other, then move quickly toward us, trying to avoid the party goers that want to speak with them along the way.
