Stay With Me
Page 4
He lifted his hand and pinched his thumb and forefinger together, twisting his wrist as if he were turning a dial. “There. My expectations are set to low.” He smiled again, sans dimple, and pushed back his chair. Taking her hand, he excused them from the table.
They walked onto the dance floor as an up-tempo seventies song came to a close. The next track started with the twang of a guitar, and Rebecca watched as a crowd of four or five guys headed to the floor. Several girls followed in their stocking feet.
“Dave Matthews?” She gave him a sideways glance as they stopped near the edge of the dance floor.
It took him a second to register her meaning. “No, John Mayer.”
“Let’s go, Reynolds,” one of the guys shouted at Chris. Chris nodded and released her hand for a moment while he took off his jacket and draped it over an empty chair. He took her hand again and looking at her feet said, “You might want to lose the shoes.”
Rebecca looked at her dusty rose-colored pumps with the conservative heel and then back at Chris.
“Go ahead. I promise not to step on your toes.”
Rebecca slipped them off and placed them beneath the chair where Chris had hung his jacket. The guys were already doing some kind of crazy line dance that morphed into a Rockette-style leg kick while the girls watched and clapped in time to the music. Rebecca was glad to stand aside while Chris joined them. They looked so ridiculous she laughed. As they broke ranks, Chris caught her by the arm and swung her around in a circle.
Alan and Jamie had joined the group and took center floor for their own duet. As they moved off to the side, another couple took their place and then another until Rebecca realized they were taking turns. She and Chris were going to have to do—something. Her throat constricted, and she stood stock-still.
Before she could protest, Chris took her hand and pulled her into the center where he led her into some kind of do-si-do until his foot caught the hem of one of the bridesmaids’ dresses and he fell to the floor. The little crowd roared, and Chris got up, made a big show of dusting himself off and took a bow, holding Rebecca’s hand out for a curtsy. She laughed and obliged as someone else claimed the spotlight.
She didn’t know when it happened, but her apprehension lifted, and she joined in the rowdy silliness for the next couple of minutes.
The next song was a ballad, and Chris took her elbow and pulled her in to face him. She felt a smidgen of discomfort but pushed it aside. She was breathing hard and sweat beaded on her neck, but dancing had been fun, and she wanted to have more of it.
She raised her head to peer up at him. “Dave Matthews?”
He gave her a soft, amused smile. “Nope.”
The song began with a few mellow chords and the singer sang with a yearning that pulled at Rebecca’s heart.
Bound and battered
I want to loose your shackled heart
Washed and winged
You fly free
Keep circling back to me
Stay with me
The lights had dimmed, and Rebecca tried to relax against Chris. It had been a long day, but she could still smell his aftershave, a clean fragrance that reminded her vaguely of pine. The disco ball hanging above the parquet dance floor created shimmering squares of light around the room.
After a few moments, Chris said, “You know it’s not fair to Jamie.”
She turned her head slightly and raised an eyebrow. “Not fair?”
“Not fair for you to look so beautiful. How will anyone notice the bride?”
She raised both her eyebrows in question. “That sounds an awful lot like a bad line to me, Chris. I’m sure everyone noticed Jamie.”
He smiled as if to concede, but stared into her eyes. As she relented and averted her gaze, he tucked some stray hairs behind her ear. “It may be a line, but it’s also true.”
He pulled her in closer so that she could rest her head against his shoulder. He slid one arm around her back while the other one held her hand in his.
After a minute, he pulled back and said, “Thank you for being my date tonight. I hope it wasn’t too uncomfortable not knowing anybody.”
“Not at all.” It was a little lie, but he really had made it almost painless.
***
Chris’s pulse raced, and it wasn’t just because of the dancing. Being this close to Rebecca overwhelmed him. The mild berry scent that followed her, the way she looked at him, and the feel of her soft, delicate frame in his arms. Had he had too much to drink? No, he was a little buzzed, but nowhere near drunk. He’d be fine to drive her home in an hour or so like he planned.
The music played on, but as they neared the edge of the dance floor, Chris stopped moving. He couldn’t take it anymore. Sliding a finger under her chin, he raised her face to his.
“Rebecca, may I kiss you?”
Her eyes widened, but she gave a slight nod of her head, which he took as a ‘yes,’ and he tilted his head down. The moment his lips met hers he knew. He knew he was falling fast and hard for this beautiful, guileless woman. He had worried she might pull away, but she let him kiss her again and again, gently pressing his lips to hers and tasting her soft champagne sweetness. He knew whatever happened or didn’t happen after this, he would never hear this song again without thinking about this night with Rebecca.
He wasn’t aware the music had ended until a chorus of cheers and whistles brought him out of the moment. When he lifted his head, he realized what had felt like the most intimate moment of his life was, in fact, a very public display of affection. His cheeks warmed, and he pulled Rebecca snug against his chest, hugging her with both arms. He smiled because he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so elated.
A fierce protective streak rose in him, and he continued to shield Rebecca from the whistles and leers. He lifted his hands to the sides of her face and leaned back, wanting to see what was in her chocolate brown eyes.
“Sorry. I should’ve waited until we were alone.”
“It’s okay.” Her sweet smile and the sparkle in her eyes said that she meant it.
A hand slapped his back, and he turned around to see Alan, a knowing look on his face.
“Keep that up, and I’ll be toasting you.”
***
Chris took her hand, and they grabbed his jacket and her shoes on the way back to their seats. The faces at the table had changed, but the conversation and drinks continued to flow. Rebecca noticed that Chris had switched to Coca-Cola. The pale, red-headed guy across the table was talking about a golf course he played on in Florida when a slender hand fitted with several gaudy rings burst into her peripheral vision, wrapping itself around Chris’s face. He released her hand under the table and tried to dislodge the two that were blocking his line of sight.
At first, Rebecca only saw the woman’s fancy up-do with expensive highlights. She cooed into Chris’s ear, “Guess who?” What was this, high school?
Chris didn’t bother to guess. He removed her hands and shifted in his seat so that he could see her face.
“Megan, I’d like you to meet Rebecca. Rebecca, this is Megan. We went to school together.”
It was obvious Megan hadn’t been seeking an introduction, but that’s what she got and to her credit she extended her hand to Rebecca and said what a pleasure it was to meet her. Rebecca realized hers was one of the heads that had turned to see her at the ceremony and that she was inebriated. Megan turned back to Chris. “It would be a shame if we didn’t have at least one dance. For old time’s sake.”
Chris didn’t take the bait. “I just sat down to take a breather, Megan. Maybe later?”
“Oh, come on.” If Megan were sober, she probably would be embarrassed by the pleading tone she had used, not to mention the way she ran her perfectly-shaped and polished nails up and down Chris’s sleeve. “I’m sure Becky doesn’t mind, do you?” Megan’s glassy eyes turned back towards her.
Rebecca floundered for an answer. “Uh, no. It’s fine.”
With Megan pulling him away from the table, Rebecca finally got a good look at Chris and the browbeaten look on his face. Once Megan’s back was turned, he leaned down toward Rebecca’s ear.
“Thanks. You’re a great friend, Rebecca.” His tone dripped with sarcasm.
Rebecca smiled. It amused her to see him in such discomfort, in a flirty sort of way. His lack of interest in dancing with Megan also pleased her.
Chris did his best to pry Megan’s arms off him in the nicest ways possible. When the music ended, he escorted Megan off the floor and into a gaggle of similarly-coiffed girls, then met Rebecca with an exaggerated sigh of relief.
Rebecca laughed as he sat down next to her, took her hand and placed it back on his leg where it had rested before Megan’s interruption. The degree to which she liked the feeling of his warm, strong palm encasing her hand and the smooth texture of his pants and sturdy leg beneath her fingers discomfited her.
“Well, at least that’s over.” He planted a little kiss on her cheek. “Next time you don’t have to be such a good sport, okay? Tell her to leave me alone or you’ll scratch her eyes out or something.”
Afraid of saying something too catty, Rebecca just smiled.
Chris squeezed her hand, and all of a sudden everyone around her sang. The song was familiar, even to her. By the time they hit the chorus, the dance floor had filled and even the people still sitting were singing along, “What a lady, what a night.” Chris sang, too. She stared at him as he watched the dance floor, knee bouncing and head bobbing to the music.
Oh my gosh, he’s handsome. What am I getting myself into?
She tapped her knee to the catchy tune, but even when Chris leaned in and sang to her, she merely smiled, refusing to sing along. She hoped he didn’t notice.
In another forty-five minutes, the crowd had thinned out considerably, and Chris squeezed her hand and asked if she was ready to go.
“I’m ready any time you are.”
“Let’s go then.” He stood and pulled her chair out for her. No one had done that for her before, and Rebecca feared she might land on the floor. Good thing she was sober.
Chris and Rebecca said their goodbyes to the remaining people at the table. Alan and Jamie were barely holding each other up, glassy-eyed and slurring their words. Why were they still here so late in the evening anyway? What kind of wedding night did that make for?
Chris stopped as they stepped out into the lobby. “I’m going to run to the restroom before we go. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” She turned to face the reception ballroom again while toying with the leather strap on her handbag. A door opened and slammed shut behind her. Chris already? She knew guys could get in and out in a hurry, but really, he’d just gone in.
It wasn’t Chris, but Megan. She veered to the side either because she had too much to drink or because she was looking down as she adjusted her overflowing cleavage in her royal blue, sequined, strapless gown. When she looked up, she spotted Rebecca and made a beeline for her—the kind a crazy, drunken bee with poor sensory perception would make. Rebecca tried not to stare at the stream of toilet tissue she dragged on the heel of her right shoe.
“Becky, Becky, Becky.” Megan must have enjoyed a few more drinks since her spin on the dance floor with Chris. “So, where did you and Chris meet?”
“The grocery store.” She hoped Chris would be out soon. Megan obviously had a thing for Chris, and this could get unpleasant fast.
“How cute.” Her voice rose to a tone ordinarily reserved for fawning over baby animals. “We’ve known each other since we were like, seven.”
Rebecca nodded and hoped Megan would get bored and head back into the ballroom. No such luck.
“You know, I always thought I’d be his first.” She reeked of alcohol and perfume.
“His first?”
“You know, his first time. Between the sheets.” She tried to adopt a whisper for this delicate subject, but it came out more of a hoarse slur. “He was so shy though, and then we went off to college. I didn’t see him for years. Time has been really good to him.” She exaggerated “really” and leaned into Rebecca as if she were sharing a secret. “But, I guess that ship left the station years ago, so to speak.” Her flimsy metaphor struck her as funny, and she snorted and held onto Rebecca’s arm for support. “You take good care of him tonight. For me.”
Should she let that comment slide or correct her? Megan probably wouldn’t remember the conversation in the morning, but Rebecca didn’t want her assuming she and Chris were sexually involved.
“Oh, we’re not, uh, we haven’t known each other all that long.”
Megan leaned back in an exaggerated fashion. Fearing Megan might lose her balance, Rebecca grabbed hold of her wrist, pulling her upright.
“Doesn’t matter.” Then she stilled and wagged her long finger at Rebecca—the index finger that brandished a shiny bauble. “I saw you kiss him, you know. You don’t kiss a man like that and then refuse him. Not after a wedding of all things. Everyone knows if you leave a wedding with someone, well, you’d better be ready to set sail to the train.”
Her metaphor wasn’t working anymore, but Rebecca got her meaning. Mercifully, she stopped speaking then, and Rebecca heard one of the restroom doors open and close again. This time, thank God, it was Chris.
He smiled at Rebecca and put his arm around her waist. She felt him tense when he recognized Megan, but seeing her condition, he softened.
“Megan, do you have a ride home?
“Are you offering to take me home, Chris?” She swayed in his direction, and he steadied her.
“Sorry. I’ve got to get Rebecca back to her place, but I could call you a cab or see if someone else here can give you a ride.”
“That’s what I thought. Don’t worry about me. Brittany’s the designated driver.” She motioned to a raven-haired beauty in a skin-tight sheath dress pressed up against one of Alan’s coworkers.
“Okay then,” Chris said and nudged Rebecca toward the door. “Good night.”
They began to move before Megan could protest. As they reached the double doors at the exit, Chris removed his jacket and put it around Rebecca’s shoulders. “It’s gotten a lot cooler out since we came in.”
After he closed the rental car door behind her and got behind the wheel, he rested his hand on her lap. “Sorry about Megan. That was probably an uncomfortable, if not painful, conversation. I don’t know how she managed to get on the guest list. Her brother, Tim, is a buddy of Alan’s, but I didn’t see him here tonight.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “Megan’s always had kind of a crush on me.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Rebecca tried to keep a straight face. When Chris gave her a curious look, she laughed.
“You had me there. I started to think you were hitting the bottle in there when I wasn’t looking.” He smiled, removed his hand from her lap, and turned the key in the ignition.
She thought he would put the car into gear, but he paused and looked at her again.
“Megan’s always liked attention, especially from guys. She’s a flirt, no doubt about it, but it wasn’t until her oldest brother was killed by an IED in Afghanistan that she dove headlong into the party scene.”
Rebecca felt a stab of guilt. She had judged Megan unfairly. She looked down and straightened the fabric in her gown before she had the nerve to look at Chris. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Chris nodded once and backed out of the parking space. A comfortable silence ensued, and Rebecca relaxed into her seat. When Chris passed her exit, a worried shudder ran through her. Where was he taking her? Was Megan, for all her drunken stupor, right? Did leaving a wedding with a guy mean you were going to sleep with him?
“Chris, you are taking me home, right?”
“Shoot, I missed your exit, didn’t I? Sorry. I’m tired, and I’m driving on autopilot I guess.
I’ll get off up here and go around.”
She hadn’t realized the sigh of relief she let out was audible until Chris looked her way.
“What’s the matter?” He glanced between her and the road. “Did you think I was kidnapping you?”
She laughed, but she could tell by Chris’s wary look that he didn’t buy her attempt to laugh it off.
When they reached her apartment, Chris got out of the car and then let Rebecca out. He offered his hand, and she took it, holding on as she gathered her handbag and dress in her other hand and stepped onto the curb. He held onto her as they walked up the steps and to her door. They slowed to a stop, and he drew his tux jacket in around her shoulders.
“Thank you, again, for coming with me. I know weddings can be—” He searched for the right word and hadn’t yet found it when she finished the sentence for him.
“Beautiful. Magical.”
Chris smiled. “That wasn’t what I was going for.”
“I know, but being there was a blessing. Really.”
“I’m feeling pretty blessed myself.” He inched closer to her. “So, first taste of champagne and first dance. Could I be lucky enough to have claimed a first kiss, too?”
Suddenly shy, Rebecca looked down and twisted her hands. “Unfortunately, no. You’re about eight years too late on that one.” She looked up again, touched that Chris was grateful to have shared these special ‘firsts’ with her. “But it was our first kiss.”
“Yes, it was.” Chris slid his hand along her neck, resting his fingers beneath her ear and stroking her cheek with his thumb. His gaze bored into her, and she thought at first he would kiss her, but he just stared. She wanted to look away but couldn’t. His eyes were there challenging her. Then he smiled like he knew something she didn’t. And then she knew, too. This was something real, lasting, and powerful. So powerful it frightened her.
He kissed her cheek, and then stopping as if he hadn’t planned to do it until that very second, moved to kiss her on the lips. “That would make this our second kiss.” His lips hovered over hers before he pressed them to her mouth in the most delicate, ethereal kiss she could imagine. It was as gentle and nonthreatening a kiss as could be, but Rebecca tensed as she recalled Megan’s assessment of Chris’s expectations for the night.