“I know,” I say, kissing the top of her head. Even with heels on, she only just reaches my chin.
“We’re ready to go back in, then?” she asks.
“Yup,” I reply, taking a deep breath and linking my arm in hers.
“Thank fuck for that. They’re just about to serve dessert, and I would’a been pissed if I had to miss it.” If you didn’t know Lottie, you would miss the little smirk that creases the corners of her eyes. God, I love this girl.
For the next hour, the ballroom is a sea of people mingling. Once the tables and chairs are cleared back to make way for the dance floor, and everyone is standing it’s pretty much impossible to see over the hundreds of heads. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t edgy, if I said my adrenaline wasn’t running on an all-time high. It is. It’s the strangest feeling knowing that someone you’ve been running from for so long is in the same room as you. Possibly only two or three people away. But he can’t do a damned thing to me here, and with that thought, each minute that goes past gets easier. Denham doesn’t leave my side, and Lottie and Spike don’t go far either, so I feel safely cocooned in between three of my favorite people in the world.
It takes a while for people to start to dance, but when they do, there’s a little more room to move around on the perimeter.
“Okay, guys. You said we’d dance. So I want to dance. Who’s with me?” I drain the rest of the champagne in the glass I was given on my way back into the ballroom and place it on the bar just a few feet away.
“Okay!” Lottie answers, doing a little bounce on the balls of her feet. “Sambuca. Then we dance.”
“Yes!” I reply.
“I’m not sure—” Denham starts.
“Look, King,” I say, pointing a finger in his chest. “If you’re going to tell me it’s not a good idea to get drunk, then think again. We are doing shots. Then we are dancing. Got it?” I sound fiercer than I feel and instantly feel bad about being so sharp. But it quickly fades when I see the smirk on his face.
“I was going to say, I’m not sure they will have Sambuca, but I’ll happily go and check for you.”
I narrow my eyes at him, questioning if that was what he was really going to say or if he’s saying it to placate me. “Champagne makes you feisty,” he comments with a grin, and takes my hand to lead us to the bar.
Four clear, potent shots are lined up on the bar top and set alight. Lottie and I start the countdown.
“Three.” Denham raises his eyes to the ceiling and mutters under his breath and I laugh at him. “Two. One. Go!”
His face is a picture. I know he’s not new to doing shots, but I’m guessing it’s been some time since he downed something like Sambuca, and I feel happy that I’m responsible for corrupting this little part of him.
“Now we dance.” I grab his hand, kiss him hard on the lips, and lead him to the dance floor. I know I’m being over the top. I know all of my movements are exaggerated as I’m trying to block out the rest of the people in this room … one specific person who may or may not be in this room. But I’m determined to pretend he’s not here and show him that I will live my life, I will pretend that he never existed and all the good things that I have right in front of me are all that I need.
The alcohol helps us all loosen up. I’ve watched Denham dance with hearts in my eyes and lust in my body. I’ve slow danced with him, when his warm body is pressed against mine. It’s true that God gifted these boys with everything. Between him and Spike, they cover every desirable trait you would look for in a man. They’re both sexy, in very different ways. They both weara suit like a second skin. And they can both dance like Channing Tatum. They have moves for every song that is played, and Lottie and I have a great time dancing with them and letting them do their own thing. They feed off of each other when the music is playing, and I notice lots of people watch them too. When the band stops for a break, we stop dancing to grab a drink. Under the circumstances, I didn’t expect to let loose enough to have fun like that, but I’m so pleased we did. It goes a long way in showing us that maybe this is possible.
We grab some more champagne and find a table. Denham sits and pulls me onto his lap.
“You look fucking edible this evening, Ari,” he growls into my ear.
I place my hand gently on the side of his face and run it around the back his neck, looking deep into his eyes and pulling him in to meet my lips. I move in close, just a whisper away, and let my tongue tease between his partly open lips. He groans and pulls me in tighter to kiss me hard. He kisses me with such passion that at first I don’t register the voice behind me.
“Oh, aren’t you both cute?”
Amy.
Denham stiffens, and I drop my head into his chest and sigh.
When I turn, I wish I hadn’t. It’s not just Amy. She’s tucked into the arm of…Jonny, or James, or whatever the fuck he’s called himself these days.
I don’t know whether to laugh or throw up.
Denham jumps up so fast, I stumble to catch my balance, but Lottie and Spike are at my side quickly so I have enough support to find my feet.
“We’re leaving,” Denham grates out, grabbing my hand and stepping forward, putting his body between Jonny and me.
Jonny holds up a hand in his path. “Mr. King. Isn’t it?” He uses his public voice. The one that’s neutral. Non-threatening but authoritative.
“I said, we’re leaving,” Denham repeats.
