“Yes.It is.”
With a perplexed smile, Harlan excuses himself.
It is good.It’s a chance to move forward without the shadow of my ex looming over me.
It’s the proof that I can handle my own life, even if my life isn’t as thrilling as my sister’s or a professional athlete’s.
After checking my makeup in the mirror, I head back out.
There’re several couples and groups already dancing, and I linger at the edge of the floor watching.
Someone taps my shoulder.I turn to find Clay staring down at me, his smoldering intensity on full display.
“Dance with me.”
I take his hand, and he leads me to the floor.
There are eyes on us.I feel them.
“I know you’re not Harlan’s biggest fan, or Mari’s,” I say.“So, thank you.For what you did for my sister.”
“I didn’t do it for her.I did it for you.”
I stare up at him, his hands warm on mine.
At the front of the room, words were easy.
Now, there’s nothing to say to capture what I’m feeling.What I want.What I hope.
“First game of the season is Tuesday,” Miles interrupts from where he’s dancing with his date.“Don’t screw up your knee.”
“I can still beat you on one leg.”
Miles laughs, and we make another few turns to the music.
Across the room, Mari and Harlan are engrossed in talking to their guests.I watch them disappear out to the garden with some friends, each with a glass of wine in hand.
I don’t know what the future holds.I thought all I wanted was to be on stable ground, to have people see me as an adult who has her life together.But right now, I’m enjoying being exactly where I am.
Now, there’s a streak of independence, of adventure, I didn’t bank on.It has something to do with the man holding me in the middle of the dance floor.
“The day I met you, I was dreading coming back for the season.I was in a dark mood, and this pixie on the plane who had no idea who I was stole my seat.The way you argued, lost, then decided we should be friends, I thought you were crazy,” Clay murmurs into my hair.“But there was something underneath the pink hair and the tequila shots.You cared about people, and it drew me to you from the start.”
I sigh, content.“I thought you were some asshole gym owner,” I admit, and he grins.“You were too cool for me until you agreed to switch seats.You ripped mySports Illustratedmagazine like a psycho?—”
“They had a feature on me.I didn’t want to ruin what we had going on.”
My lips part, and it takes a moment for me to continue.“You followed me into the bathroom because you were worried.You worried about a stranger, and it was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
We turn in circles, Clay holding me close.
“And here I thought it was my tattoos that got you through.”
I bite my cheek.“Guys don’t normally strip for me in bathrooms.It might have helped a little.”
Beneath the humor, I see the truth.
He’s been there all along, the person who knows me, who backs me up no matter the cost.The man who made me believe life doesn’t have to go in one direction.
