Sweeper

by Amy Daws

  When Daphney finishes, I realize the entire room was as entranced by her as I was. We were all captivated, including the bride and groom. She offers a soft smile to Santino and Tilly before sitting back down in her secluded seat. As soon as she’s out of sight, I instantly feel the loss of her. I wish I could talk to her right now. Tell her how incredible she sounded. The entire time they exchange the rings, I find myself stir-crazy in my seat, feeling trapped in with the last people in the world I want to be with right now. I don’t want to be here with this family. I want to be sitting with Daphney.

  Finally, the service ends, and we’re ushered out of the room and down a flight of stairs into a larger reception room. It’s covered with white and green floral arrangements and another sweeping view that I couldn’t give a shit about. My eyes scan the space, and when I see Daphney standing at the bar with a champagne flute in her hand talking to the bartender, I ditch the Harris group and make a beeline right for her.

  “Of course you look good in a suit,” she says, but I ignore the compliment as I take the glass from her and set it on the bar. I lace my fingers through hers and pull her through a few tables into a small hallway where the bathrooms are.

  “What’s the matter?” she asks, her brows furrowed as I clutch her shoulders and position her against the wall.

  My answer is to grab her face and crush my lips to hers.

  She whimpers in surprise but must not mind what’s happening because her hands reach up and comb through the hair on the back of my head. I arch her chin up to deepen our kiss. Our tongues dance as my hands map the back of her neck and the feminine muscle that lines her shoulders. She squeezes me tightly to her, and the sensation of her nails scoring over my scalp travels all the way to my gut as that feeling of breathlessness rushes through me again.

  I feel frantic and on edge right now. I’m kissing the life out of her because I’m certain words could never express how much I love hearing her sing. She’s got such a gift, such an innocent beauty to her entire being. It’s all overwhelming.

  When I finally pull away from her, we’re both dazed, and I can feel her pulse racing, just like mine. I drag my thumb over her lower lip and pin her with a serious look. “You have to take back your songs, Daphney.”

  “What?” she asks, her eyes dancing between mine in confusion.

  “You’re too special to let your music go. I mean it. No matter what happens, please don’t let this side of you go. You’re more than commercial jingles. Do you hear me?”

  Her lips twitch like she wants to argue, but when she sees the sincerity on my face, she nods and bites her lip. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” I repeat for confirmation.

  “Yes.” She laughs and gives me a light shove. “You’re acting mental.”

  I lean in and press a chaste kiss to her lips. “You look fucking beautiful, too.” I turn to walk her back out to the party and freeze midstride when I come face-to-face with her brother Hayden.

  “Everything alright here?” Hayden asks, his eyes narrowing on me first and then moving to Daphney behind me. His gaze dips down to our hands interlocked together.

  Daphney clears her throat and wraps her other hand around my elbow. “We’re brilliant. Cheers, Hayden!” She pushes past her brother and attempts to drag me behind her.

  I shoot Hayden an apologetic smile as I call over my shoulder, “Cheers means thanks.”

  The reception is a casual buffet-style, and there are no seating arrangements, so Daphney and I grab some food and find an empty table with a view.

  “So is your brother going to kill me?” I inquire, eating some sort of chicken on a stick.

  Daphney shrugs, her long black lashes framing her gorgeous blue eyes in a way that makes it hard to focus on what comes out of her mouth. She plays with her salad and murmurs, “Probably.”

  Fear niggles inside me, and apparently, it shows on my face because Daphney starts laughing. “Would you relax? I’m an adult. What’s he going to do?”

  “He could evict me.” I take a drink of my beer, realizing how much it would suck not to live in the same building as Daphney anymore. I’ve become pretty addicted to her, as it turns out.

  “He’s not going to evict you. I’m sure your contract with the club didn’t include…no dating any neighbors.” She rolls her eyes and takes a bite of her salad.

  “He could corner me later tonight and ask me what my intentions are.” I watch her for a moment as she finishes chewing and dabs at her lips.

  “What are your intentions?” she asks, as she lifts her stunning blue eyes to mine. There’s a vulnerability in them that feels like a sharp punch to the gut. “This past week has felt quite a bit different than the casual sex arrangement we originally concocted, don’t you think?”

  I set my drink down and place my elbows on the table to lean in closer to her. “What do you want this to be?” I ask honestly because if there’s one thing I’ve learned this week, it’s that I don’t want to lose Daphney.

  She bites her lip nervously, and that little dimple on her chin emerges. “I asked you first.”

  I smile because that dimple means she answered my question without even saying a word. And the fact that I’m not terrified of what she’s thinking is a new and different experience for me. Maybe it’s time I try something new. I resume eating my kabob and mumble around a bite, “Fine.”

  She frowns at the food in my hand. “Fine, what?”

  “Fine, I’ll be with you.” I look at her as I take another bite.

  Her brows knit together in the middle with an angry sort of expression. “What the bloody hell does that mean?”

  “I’ll be in a relationship with you.” I lick my lips and waggle my eyebrows at her.

  “Are you joking right now?” Daphney snaps, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms. “After all those rules and weeks of doing what we’re doing, you think you can just change things like that?”

  I set my chicken down and wipe my hands on my napkin. “Yeah. Why not? I like you.”

  “He likes me.” She laughs and shakes her head, looking off into the distance with an exasperated growl as she takes a sip of her champagne before adding, “What makes you think I even want to be in a relationship with you?”

  She looks like she either wants to claw my face off or kiss me. And I’m seriously banking on the latter. I reach over and turn her to face me. “Do you like me?”

  Her lips purse together as her eyes drop to my lips. “I don’t like you right now.”

  “Liar,” I whisper before pressing a soft kiss to her lips. When I pull back, the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile that she’s trying and failing to hide. God, she’s so fucking cute when she pretends to be mad. “We have something good here, and you know it, Ducky. Just trust me.”

  The heated look in her eyes is all the answer I need, but we’re yanked out of our little heart-to-heart by a voice in the distance.

  “Daphney, you sounded absolutely beautiful,” Tilly says in a strong Scottish accent as Daphney stands up to accept a hug from the bride. “I think I cried the whole time you sang.”

  “She did.” Santino chuckles and leans in to hug Daphney as well. “My nonna even said you sounded like an angel, and she does not pass out compliments easily.”

  “Oh, it’s no problem,” Daphney replies, waving off their praise like usual. “I was thrilled to be a part of your special day. Tilly, I’m not sure you’ve met Zander.”

  “I have heard so much about you from Santino,” Tilly states, reaching out to shake my hand. “You’re a dead-brilliant sweeper for Bethnal Green. Well done.”

  I laugh and wince slightly. “Could have done better yesterday.”

  “Everyone has an off day,” Santino says, shaking my hand next. “It’s good to see you again, Zander.”

  “You too, Santino. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” Santino glances over at Tilly as she continues chatting with Daphney. “I can honestly say I never thought this
day would come.”

  “Probably true for most grooms, eh?” I chortle and elbow him playfully.

  He turns his attention back to me and stares intently at my face. “You seem to be fitting in well with…everyone.” His laugh is awkward, and my brows furrow at his odd choice of phrasing.

  “I guess you could say that.” I shrug and watch him speculatively. “You hooked me up with a pretty good neighbor.” Daphney glances over at me briefly, and I shoot her a wink.

  Santino watches me for a moment before saying, “Well, I’m glad you’re settling into Bethnal Green okay. I wasn’t so sure when you first arrived. But now I feel pretty good.”

  “Why weren’t you sure?” I ask, my eyes narrowing on him curiously.

  His face falls briefly before he quickly plasters on a smile. “Oh, just…the American in London thing. You know.”

  I clock the tense look in Santino’s eyes, but our focus is diverted when the DJ calls the bride and groom out to the dance floor for their first dance. Santino and Tilly hurry away, and I try to shake off the odd exchange as Daphney and I watch them drift across the dance floor.

  Santino said a lot of odd things to me in a short amount of time, but the ones I can’t help but replay are, “I never thought this day would come.”

  Do any men see the women they fall for coming? I certainly didn’t picture myself at a wedding with Daphney when I first hit on her at Old George. I didn’t see myself developing real feelings for her either. But now, she’s become a regular fixture in my life over here. The thought of losing her is something I cannot even fathom. And if being her boyfriend is how I can keep hold of her, then I will be the best boyfriend I can be.

  “Okay, lovebirds. It’s time to get this party started!” Vi exclaims, shuffling over to our table at the end of the song. She grabs Daphney’s hand. “Come on, we need some young blood out there to show the old buggers how to dance properly!”

  “How perfect,” Daphney squeals and reaches back to drag me along behind her. “Zander is a self-proclaimed excellent dancer. Moves like Jagger, isn’t it?”

  I glare at Daphney’s sarcastic tone as we join Santino, Tilly, Mac, and Freya on the dance floor. Feeling fancy, I spin both Daphney and Vi around a few times before Hayden walks toward me with a somber look on his face.

  “I’m trusting you with my sister, Zander.” He narrows his eyes at me and reaches out for Vi’s hand as he pulls her close and begins spinning her away. “But not my wife.”

  We exchange a look over the shoulders of our partners that leaves no room for interpretation. Something along the lines of, “Break my sister’s heart, and I’ll break your bloody neck.”

  Message received, I think to myself as I spin Daphney away from me for a moment.

  The dance floor fills up quickly when all four of the Harris Brothers with their wives join in. Everyone is animatedly busting a move in their own unique way, and I find myself having a genuinely good time. It’s easy with Daphney in my arms.

  I pull her in close and murmur in her ear, “So, are we official then? Are you going to start calling me your boyfriend now?” I sing the last bit at the end like the mature adult I am.

  Daphney glares up at me. “That depends. Are you going to call me your girlfriend?”

  I purse my lips together and nod. “But I prefer sweetheart.” We stop moving as I cup her face and press my lips to her forehead. I linger for a moment, breathing in the scent of her and finding myself amazed that I could ever be this happy with a woman.

  A soft sigh escapes her lips as she lays her head on my chest. “Don’t break my heart, Zander.”

  Her words hit me like a ton of bricks when I realize that being in a relationship with her isn’t just fun and games. It’s a responsibility that I want to be good enough for. My dad cherished my mom. They were each other’s person. I want to build that with Daphney.

  Everyone begins cheering around us when the music shifts to the infamous Dirty Dancing song, “Time of My Life.” I look at Daphney with a giant smile.

  “It’s destiny,” I say, gripping her hips to mine as I begin to lead her in a salsa step. “This movie was one of my mom’s favorites. And now I don’t have to behave myself because we’re not hiding our relationship from people.”

  “You absolutely have to behave yourself,” she states, staring down at our hips swiveling together.

  “Why? They’re not.” I point over at Gareth, Camden, Tanner, and Booker, who are all in the process of trying to do the big lift at the end of Dirty Dancing. The one when Baby runs into Johnny’s arms, and he deadlifts her over his head. Their wives want nothing to do with it, so Tanner is trying to lift Camden, and Booker is trying to get Gareth to lift him, and they are all failing miserably. Finally, they bring in Mac because he’s apparently the strongest, and if Tanner and Camden both stand on either side of him and Gareth braces Mac on his back, they can all lift Booker up together. Their wives are all standing at the edge of the dance floor, cringing and laughing along with Santino and Tilly.

  They’re just about to make their move as Booker begins a slow jog toward Mac’s outstretched hands when Vaughn barrels between them and stops Booker in his tracks. He shakes his finger at Booker and Camden, telling them to stop acting like idiots before they injure themselves and sabotage their season. He then looks at Mac, Gareth, and Tanner like they should know better.

  Tanner apparently takes that as an opening for him to attempt to deadlift Gareth since they aren’t still professional athletes. The two collapse onto the ground in a heap after a massive failed attempt. Booker and Camden help them up, and the four of them are gesticulating wildly as they try to figure out where they went wrong and gear up for another attempt. Tanner even begins stretching.

  “Do you trust me?” I murmur into Daphney’s ear before spinning her out and away from me.

  “What?” she asks, as her eyes blink curiously back at me.

  I nod and slowly walk backward, giving us more space. “Do you trust me?”

  “To do that?” She points at the guys who are still dusting themselves off. “Absolutely not.”

  “Come on, Ducky. It’s my party trick.”

  “It’s not mine,” she exclaims, propping her hands on her hips. “No way. If professional footballers can’t manage it, then I certainly can’t either.”

  “Just trust me,” I state it again and hold my hands out to her, nodding.

  She bites her lip and wrings her hands in front of her, but I can see the uncertainty slowly melt away. She looks at me with that spark of confidence in her eye that I noticed the first time we met.

  “Don’t make me regret this, Soccer Boy,” she says, slipping off her heels and tossing them to the side. The girls notice that we’re gearing up for something big, and they begin catcalling out to the two of us.

  The music crescendos up to the big finish at the end just as she runs straight at me and launches herself into my arms. I grip her hips and push her straight up. Her legs are bent at first as she holds my arms and squeals nervously. But then she relaxes and straightens her legs and hands out and holds the pose for a couple of seconds. The entire wedding erupts, cheering us on from the tables and the dance floor before she collapses and falls into my arms.

  She laughs into my neck as her hands hold tight to my shoulders. Her euphoria is infectious as I grip her waist and brush the hair away from her face.

  “I can’t believe we did that,” she squeals before turning around to embrace the females coming over to congratulate us.

  “I can’t either actually,” I reply with a laugh. I’ve only ever done that once, and it was with my best friend’s little sister at a college, and there was a lot of alcohol involved. Nice to know I still got it.

  The guys all clamor around and begin firing questions at me about the technique and how I pulled it off. It’s a bizarre feeling because once again, I’m surrounded by people who might not just be friends…they could very well be much, much more.

  Daphn
ey

  Kisses outside…

  in the taxi…

  on the stairs…

  in the hallway.

  Kisses outside of my door…

  inside my door…

  in my kitchen.

  Kisses by my bed.

  My skin tingles with endless kisses Zander places over every inch of my body as he slowly removes my clothes and brushes his lips upon all my newly exposed parts. When he removes his suit, I do the same. Relishing in the warm ripples of his muscles and his heartbeat thrumming wildly beneath his chest.

  He lays me gently down on my bed, still kissing, always kissing. Kissing like he can’t get enough of me, and I can’t get enough of him.

  Zander moves to grab a condom, and I grip my legs around his hips and hold him to me. “I’m on the pill,” I say, staring up at him.

  He frowns down at me, a halo of golden light surrounding him and making this moment seem even more like an out-of-body experience. “Are you sure?”

  I nod. “I trust you.”

  His eyes dip to my lips, and we’re kissing again. Soft, sweet, tender kisses as his erection brushes over my bare center. I reach down and position it between my legs, desperate to connect us on a deeper level.

  Zander stops kissing me long enough to gaze into my eyes as he pushes every single inch inside me. I inhale, my breath suspended in my chest as I allow our eyes to remain locked on one another. I’m certain I’ve never felt this close to a man in my life.

  Zander and I may have started off casual, but I know him, and he knows me on a deep, credulous level. It is that trust that makes this moment more special and more real.

  I thought I’d been in love before. I thought I knew what love was and could identify it immediately.

  I was dead wrong.

  I stroke my hands up and down Zander’s spine as he moves inside me slowly, lyrically, like he’s taking note of every sensation and committing it to memory. His lips pepper kisses on my breasts and my neck as I brand this night into my heart as well. This night when I sang a song to a man I was falling for. This night when I opened my heart up to someone, and he accepted it in his own unique way. This night when I felt inspired to take my life back and create my own destiny.