True. “So, a hard nine then?”
He huffs a laugh as he swallows his scotch, gaze still on the dance floor. “Naw, I’m happy for them. If I had to lose my wingman I’m glad it’s to someone as cool as her.”
“He really loves her.” And if he didn’t, he’d have myself and our other best friend, Jenna, to answer to.
Jim watches them for another minute before turning back around, inching closer to me to brush his shoulder against mine. “So what about you?”
I cock a brow. “What about me?”
“Couldn’t help but notice you didn’t bring a date to the wedding. Is that because you knew you’d be spending your day with me? No sense in inviting some poor sucker along for the ride, make him suffer through choreographed dances and a dozen drunk speeches only to find yourself in my bed at the end of the night.”
I roll my eyes so hard it hurts. “I’m pretty sure the only reason Lainey and Ryan put us together in the wedding party is becauseI’mthe only one that can keepyouin your place.”
He feigns being hurt. “Ever think it’s the other way around? Maybe I’m the only one that can tame you.”
I throw my head back, letting my laugh catch on the summer breeze and carry it away before delivering two slow, playful slaps to the side of his face. “Oh sweet, Jim. Sweet, naïve little Jim. No one will ever tame me.”
“I can see that,” he murmurs, turning his face ever so slightly so his bottom lip brushes against my palm.
Everything about Jim is so annoyingly seductive. And not in a “I’m a cliché, slimy asshole” sort of way, but more like “I’m confident in my ability to make a woman have a screaming orgasm” sort of way.
He pulls the glass from my hand and sets it on the bar next to his, lacing his fingers with mine as the band starts a new song. “Come on, you haven’t danced all night.”
“That’s because I don’t dance,” I tell him, digging my heels into the grass and leaning back in resistance. I wish I had Jenna's confidence when it comes to dancing. All night, she’s been on the dance floor with her step-daughter, Allie, obliviousto the open-mouthed stares and wide-eyes of the crowd as she teaches Allie her signature awful dance moves.
Lainey was sweet enough to ask Allie and my nephew, Jackson, to be in the wedding as the designated flower girl and ring bearer. Jackson has been talking for months about how late he was going to stay up and how he was going to outlast everyone on the dance floor. He had big plans for an evening filled with kiddie cocktails and “boogying” as he calls it, so I booked us a room at the on-site hotel with plans to stay as late as he wanted.
I would have been willing to dance with my little man – and only him – because it’s impossible to be grumpy when he’s around. But then he snuck too many pieces of wedding cake and subsequently threw up all over himself. He left thirty minutes ago with my parents, leaving just me.
Jenna struts over to her husband, Emmett, who has been the designated babysitter the entire evening. He sits at an empty table, their three-month-old sleeping princess curled up on his burly chest. She’s hardly made a peep all day, and with how wild Jenna and Allie are, I hope baby Sophie keeps that calm temperament to give the poor guy a break.
Jenna grabs his sunglasses from the table, slips them on, and whispers something into his ear before kissing his cheek. His laugh echoes across the dance floor as she moonwalks back to Allie, her blonde curls fighting against the breeze from the lake. Everything Jenna does is without abandon. She doesn’t care if she’s by herself, or centered in a crowd of a thousand judges, she will dance how she wants to dance without a care in the world.
Jim moves to stand in front of me, grabbing both elbows, pulling me out of my daydream and into his chest. “Everyone dances, Meg…and our best friends just got married, it’s time to unwind. I can offer you a personal guarantee,” he says, hovering closely. “I promise I’ll make you look good.”
I sigh, knowing he’s completely right. Not necessarily the part that he will make me look good, but the part that one of my best friends married the love of her life. The wedding is beautiful, the drinks are flowing, and the band is on fire. I have the first kid-free, work-free night in months, so I should take advantage of the situation. I hold up a pointer finger to Jim. “One dance. Just one.”
He nods his head, obliging my request, then lets go of my elbows to graze a hand down my forearm, taking my palm in his and pulling me towards the modular dance floor. I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t dance. My sister and I had countless dance parties when we were kids. I’ve propped Jackson on my hip and forced him to dance to Taylor Swift since the time he was six months old.
But I don’t dance atweddings. I don’t join in for the Macarena, or the Cha Cha Slide. I don’t do the obligatory slow dance with the groomsmen. Once in a blue moon, if Jenna and Lainey shoved enough drinks down my throat, they were able to pull me on the dance floor. But that was two years and too many tequila shots to count ago, and I’m definitely not in that element tonight.
I haven’t seen Jim on the floor at all yet this evening, not even the occasional slow song with one of the other bridesmaids. Before I can muster up some impression of what type of dancer he is, we reach the center of the floor and he immediately breaks into a version of The Carlton mixed with The Electric Slide before his palm finds my mine. He spins me out and pulls me back in with such momentum I crash into his chest, the movement forcing a laugh out of me.
“Jesus, Jim.” I giggle, slapping my hands to his shoulders to hold on for dear life as he spins us around the dance floor. He eventually slows his pace, finding a comfortable rhythm, letting his hand graze above my ass to keep me in line with his hips. Ithrow an arm over his shoulder and clasp the back of his neck. He pulls back, a satisfied smirk drawn on his face.
“I think you’re dancing, Meg.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing, but I think everyone is staring at us.”
“Let ‘em stare. Who cares if anyone is watching as long as you’re having too much fun to notice.”
“I wouldn’t call this dancing so much as you whipping me around in circles.”
He hums, taking an opportunity to dip me as the song ends. “Maybe, but it got you in my arms, didn’t it?”
He holds me in the dip as the music fades and talking ensues, and I stretch my neck out, feeling a little of the built-up tension fade the longer my head tips towards the floor. He pulls me up as Lainey bumbles by, taking a step back but keeping his grasp around my waist.
“Meg!” She shoves her glass of champagne in Jim’s hand, causing a little of her drink to slosh over the side. “Hold this, please. Can you believe I’m married?” She grabs onto his free forearm for balance and uses her spare hand to slip off her heels and toss them into the grass behind her. Before she can reach for her glass, I put both of my hands on her shoulders and shake her.
