“Not got anything for the bride?”
Fuck.
He moved the bottle from in front of Josh to Ruby, and grinned.“Of course, enjoy,” he said, dropping a kiss on her cheek.
He liked her.He liked her before he even met her because Alana did.She knew people, could read people, and even though Ruby had made a mistake it had all worked out, clearly, if the shit-eating grin on his friend’s face was anything to go by.
“I love this song!Dance with me, Drew?”
He nearly spat out his cider.The last thing he wanted to do was dance with Lola.She reminded him of a Jack Russell puppy, excitable and irritating.And it was a slow song playing, no less.
He plastered a smile on his face.“Sure, why not?”He took a swig and set his bottle down, walking to her side.
Alana cleared her throat.His eyes flew to her.
“I think the alcohol has gone to your head, Drew, how could you forget you promised me the first dance?”
He could’ve kissed her.See, she reads people, situations.
He grinned.“Yes, how could I?”he asked.“Sorry Lola, it seems I’m taken.”
Lola narrowed her eyes, before turning her attention to Pete.“Come on, I want to dance.Don’t make me dance with Dad.”Her voice trailed off as he walked to the center of the dance floor with Alana, offering her his hand and placing the other around her waist.
She didn’t look so sure of herself now.Like she wanted to help him out, but she didn’t actually want to dance with him.He couldn’t have that.
He removed the flower from his pocket and tucked it behind her ear, his fingers brushing the sensitive shell of her ear, and tangling slightly in her curls.
He heard her breathing hitch slightly, as her gaze met his.His heart picked up its rhythm.“That’s to thank you.”
She raised her brows.“For saving me,” he clarified.
A small smile played on her lips.“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, really?In that case, maybe you’re jealous, couldn’t stand the idea of watching another woman dance with me, laugh with me,” he teased.Flirting always came easily with Alana.His eyes narrowed, and he said in a lower tone of voice, his breath tickling her ear, allowing him to inhale her scent of vanilla, “Jealousy looks good on you.”
She snapped her head back, eyes flashing.“In your dreams.”
“Yes, nightly.And you do the filthiest things to me.”
She bit her lip, like she was holding in a laugh and didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her crumble.It didn’t work, though, for a laugh bubbled out of her, lighting up her beautiful face.He stared for a moment, maybe a moment too long, as her features settled back into place.
The song stopped, and she stepped out of his arms.It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her to step back into them for another dance, when a flash of darkness in the corner of the room caught his eye.He squinted and blinked.
No.Impossible.It couldn’t be.
The features were the same, though.Tall, muscular, a stripe of white through his hair.It was him.Them.Max.They’d found him.He couldn’t bring himself to be angry, to be scared; it was more like everything froze, like the whole scene suddenly had a sheet of ice over it.
Then he was gone.
A trick of the light, maybe?
Too much alcohol?
Definitely.
He ran his hand through his hair.It wasn’t like he could talk to anyone about this.He couldn’t book a therapy appointment ...Hi, yes.I’m running from my former life as a gang member where I broke numerous laws and now I’m seeing them at my best friend’s wedding.No.That life was buried.His past self was buried.And he’d done the burying.
When Lola materialized into his sight line, he actually felt relief, accepting her invitation to dance.Grateful for the distraction.As if any of them, let alone Max, would come here.Weddings were a form of torture themselves.His eyes cast around, landing on the happy couple, and he instantly felt a stab of guilt.It’s not torture seeing your best friend this happy, he reminded himself.Then he reminded his face, as he was dancing with said best friend’s sister right now.
