She tilts my chin up, tracing her thumb around my lips. “Me either.”
I kiss her thumb. The inside of her wrist. Up her arm. The small freckle on her neck.
“Lover boy, get out here before I put in my notice!” Malcolm yells, directing our attention to the center of the dance circle where is doing the duck dance in slow motion. Probably his form of rebellion instead of actually partaking in the dance off that’s happening.
Grabbing Ellie by her hands, I throw her arms up and over my head, pulling her in for one more moment just us. “Can I introduce you as my girlfriend now?” I whisper into her neck.
She chuckles. “Gosh we’re total teenagers right now!”
“Have to define the relationship, remember?” I wink, kissing her one more time.
“Of course,boyfriend,” she emphasizes with a wink before leading me to the dance floor.
We danced for what felt like an eternity. I caved and pulled out some of my infamous dance moves, sending shock waves across the floor. Whether my moves were shockingly good or just downright bad, I’m not sure, but we were having a blast.
I lost the facemask halfway through, drenched in sweat, and was half-tempted to unbutton my pirate shirt. But I still work with these people, and needed some fresh air anyway, so Malcolm and I meandered outside to the back porch for a cigar.
“So, have you talked to Clinton yet?” Thing 2 asks as he puffs at his cigar, beard still very blue.
“Not yet. I’m delaying the inevitable.” I take a small puff of my vanilla flavored cigar—it’s the only way I can tolerate them, and I rarely ever finish it. But it’s one of the ways Malcolm bonds outside of fishing, so I stick it out, appreciating the moments he decides to open up. “I’m hoping since we won’t be working together after the term that he’ll allow it.”
“You sure about that? Y’all won’t be working together?” He raises an eyebrow at me as he blows cigar smoke up in the air making it look cool. I cough my vanilla smoke out of my nose. “Seems to me the girl wants to stay at Glendale.”
I hadn’t thought about that, we hadn’t even talked about her plans after term yet. I was in denial that she might actually be going back to New York in a few months, living in this infatuation bubble you start out in at the beginning of any relationship.
We sit there silently, listening to the noise of the party muffled behind us, sounds of an autumn night in front. Crickets chirping loudly, wind blowing leaves off the trees, the small table fire crackling.
“You hear what she did for Connors? Brilliant idea,” Malcolm says, breaking the silence. “And Ms. Johnson said Devon seems to be responding well to their sessions.” He takes a final drag of his cigar. “I’d do everything I could to get her to stay, Benny. These kids will be better off with her around,” he says, squishing his cigar butt out on the bottom of his boot. I follow suit, squishing my entire cigar on my pirate boot, Malcolm chuckling at the site.
Kate slides the backdoor open. “Hey introverts, get back to the party! We’re about to limbo!”
Malcolm and I share a look . . .why us,before standing up and reluctantly heading back inside to break our backs.
I scan the room, hoping to find Ellie with no luck, but I find Emma in the kitchen, chopping fruit and aggressively shoving it into a bowl. “Late night snack?”
She doesn’t look up, just chopping and slicing like the fruit did her wrong.
“Everything okay, Em?” I ask, stepping beside her, avoiding the quick movements of the dull butter knife she is using to slice. Poor choice of utensil but not my place to bring it up right now.
“Drinks are in here. The food is bare at this point in the night but help yourself,” Steven says as he leads a guy I am unfamiliar with into the kitchen. “This is Benny, Emma’s boss.” He gestures to me.
“Hey there,” I say, shaking the lanky stanger’s hand, noting his overly soft palm and inability to handshake like a man with purpose. Instead, it’s just a limp noodle in my hand.
“Dr. Liam Peters,” he responds and my hand freezes. “Nice to meet you.”
Nowmyarm is the limp noodle.
Liam.
Steven grimaces at me and I release my hand. He leads him out of the kitchen to the party, looking back at Emma apologetically. She’s still chopping, hands shaking.
“Where’s Ellie?” I ask urgently.
“Outside,” she quivers.
I take the butter knife out of her hand. “Will you be okay?”
She nods as tears start to stream out of her eyes, breathing picks up. “I had no idea he was coming.”
