Stay a Little Longer

by Dawn Lanuza

“Good warm-up,” she nodded.

  “Give me your hand.”

  Caty took her right hand off his shoulder; he kept his hand on her back.

  “Oh, this is serious dancing,” she teased.

  Elan moved his left foot forward, and Caty responded by putting her right foot back. The fact that they hadn’t danced together before was obvious—there were hesitations and pauses—but they were quick to react to each other.

  He stepped to the side, leading her to the right slightly. Her eyes widened, taking in the change of movement, and when he closed his right foot to meet his left, she completed the step by turning her body.

  He heard her giggle. The sound of it made his stomach flutter, and he grinned. They continued down the length of the dance floor and knew that people were aware of them. Some paused to watch; some continued to dance and tried to keep up with them.

  But Caty and Elan weren’t paying attention. They were sizing each other up. Whatever Elan dished out, Caty was able to catch, her body movements fluid. She was like molten metal melding to his body, deliberate yet tender.

  During the promenade, he made her turn again, and when she came back to face him, Caty leaned her head on Elan’s shoulder and whispered, “Show-off.”

  She was enjoying it all; he could tell. He had never seen her smile this much. She had a glow around her, and it made her eyes sparkle.

  “Wanna take a dip?” He took another step forward.

  “Do I ever.”

  Elan took a side step, bending his other knee. He rotated his frame to the left, giving Caty the space to turn, angling her body to show her off. Her hair fell, exposing her shoulders and neck, and it took him an extra painstaking second before he pulled her back up.

  Her chest heaved to catch her breath, the tip of her nose touching his neck. Elan breathed and finally took in the room. All eyes were on them.

  No, all eyes on Caty.

  He closed his eyes and heard her ask, “Is Otto looking?”

  Somebody just stab me in the gut, Elan thought. That might have been better than what she had asked, but he opened his eyes and leaned back to look at her face. He didn’t even check before answering, “Yes.”

  He knew. Any man would be an idiot not to be looking at her. He was surprised she’d even asked the question.

  “And?”

  Elan finally dared to look over at the table. His eye caught Otto’s, and he saw the man frown before he turned away, his wife in tow. “I think he’s leaving.”

  She laughed, the sound of it tickling his ear. Elan slowly turned back to her and saw the look of triumph on her face. “Who else is looking?”

  “Pretty much everyone.”

  Caty’s hand slipped from his shoulders to his chest. She took a second before she admitted, “That was the most fun I’ve had tonight. Most fun I’ve had here.”

  He grinned. That was a win. Not just for her but for him.

  “Now, don’t get any ideas,” Caty had to say as soon as she stepped inside his hotel room. It was her disclaimer, and she felt silly saying it out loud. “I just don’t like public restrooms.”

  Elan shrugged, closing the door behind him. Caty knew what she’d said earlier. They wouldn’t do anything like the first time they met, but the circumstances were looking a little too similar.

  She’s not staying here tonight, no. She was just using the restroom to freshen up. The party wasn’t even over yet. Her mother was downstairs, and so was her brother—with Juliana, whom Elan had been pining for.

  She would never stay in his room tonight.

  She didn’t want to be talked about, and as much as she liked attention, she only wanted it when favorable.

  And speaking of being talked about, she was dying to know more about what Elan revealed earlier. “What else did the town tell you about me?”

  He snorted. “It really bothers you.”

  “Well, of course.”

  Elan pointed to the door. “I thought you needed to use the restroom.”

  She spun around. “I do. But I’d still like to ask you those questions when I’m done.”

  He nodded before she closed the door. She was lucky she got to close it before the smile spread across her face. She couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

  It was just everything—the way the night had turned out. She’d had high hopes for it, and it was coming true. Not in any way she’d imagined, but it was still welcome.

  Caty looked at herself in the mirror and thought she looked a bit drunk. Not passed-out drunk but happy drunk. She tried to press her lips together, but she couldn’t contain the smile.

  Holy camoly, it had been so long since she felt as if she’d won something. Finally. Earlier, she hadn’t realized how Otto deliberately led her on until Elan threw the fact out there. It was a revelation, something that validated her anger toward Otto. The prick.

  And then, suddenly, it wasn’t about him anymore. It was that she had asserted herself and conquered something today.

  She looked at the mirror to check her appearance and ruffled her hair before going back out. Elan sat on the edge of the bed, coat off, loosening his tie. When she appeared, he looked up at her and smiled.

  “I took ballet, quit, did different dances every summer,” she started, jumping right in. “I played around with the genres. Might have quit a couple of times.”

  “They didn’t tell me that much,” Elan answered. “And then?”

  She shrugged, “Then I just . . . stopped.”

  “Why?”

  Caty sighed, “Well, I moved.”

  “Right,” Elan nodded.

  “What else do you know?” Caty had to ask. It felt unfair that he was getting bits of her from outsiders, especially if the sources were unreliable.

  “Nothing as important as what I’d like to hear from you,” Elan said, and it sounded like the closing statement of the interrogation she was just starting.

  She closed her mouth and settled for a smile.

  Elan looked at her intently, eyes never leaving her, and she replayed the words he had said all night: You look great. I wasn’t complaining. You’re the fucking Oscar.

  It had happened during the twirl earlier, when he caught her back in his arms—she gasped, feeling a spark ignite within her. She thought she saw that fire in his eyes too, when his hand gripped her tightly to him.

  But this was Elan. They had been on this road before. Plus, she’d already decided that fooling around with him again was a bad idea. Proven and tested.

  She shook her head to rinse her mind of the humiliating memory. If Caty didn’t enjoy being around Elan so much, she probably would have just avoided him. She was good at pushing people away, and she certainly could have done that to him.

  But the kissing hadn’t been so bad. Okay, so maybe she was holding on to that instead. Ironically, it had become a benchmark for other boys she kissed now. That doorway kiss was something else; she couldn’t deny that, even though it ended the way it did. And that airport kiss?

  Elan’s eyebrows raised. “What are you thinking about?”

  She knew she was turning red; she was positive. Caty straightened her back and lied, “Just how we must have looked on the dance floor.”

  “I’m sure you’ll hear about it tomorrow.”

  She cringed, “God, you’re right. They’re gonna talk about us.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Hmm,” Caty tilted her head. She knew the town would talk, but she thought this night wouldn’t show her in a bad light. At least that’s what she hoped. “Well, I’m not gonna be here long enough to hear most of it.”

  Elan froze. His eyes blinked. “You’re leaving.”

  Caty forced a smile, “Yeah. I still don’t live here. I’m not planning to, ever.”

  He relaxed, “I just didn’t know you’d be leavi
ng so soon.”

  “I’ve got a couple of days. But you don’t live here either,” she pointed out.

  He didn’t say anything. He watched as Caty approached and sat next to him on the bed.

  “So is it okay for me to ask you about the accident that night?” His eyes swept over to her. “I only really know what Jules told me and what you said earlier.”

  “Sure, what do you want to know?” she asked, although part of her didn’t want to think about it. She spent a lot of time avoiding the memory. She hid it because no matter how many people tried to make her feel better, she still felt bad.

  Her family dealt with the accident discreetly, kept it a secret from the town. It was hard considering that everyone knew everybody else’s business, so they decided to fly her to Toronto for a fresh start.

  She felt guilty, even though her therapist had told her these things happen. Bad things happen to people all the time. But despite that, she felt terribly alone after the incident, especially when they asked her to move to a new place. They kept telling her it wasn’t a punishment for what happened, but it felt as if it was.

  Nobody told her how it would be to feel so alone even when she was surrounded by people who were supposed to be there for her. The weight of her guilt rested on her shoulders, and it exhausted her.

  “Do you still think about it?”

  Caty paused, mouth slightly open. She took a quick breath before smiling. “Nobody has asked me that question before.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes,” she nodded, “I try not to. It’s not a pleasant memory.”

  “And you don’t like talking about it?”

  She mused. “I’m not gonna lie. I don’t. We’re all pretty hush-hush about it. It’s just been catching up with me recently.”

  “Is that why you got weird with Sarge earlier?”

  Caty laughed, “We’re all weird with Sarge. The man thinks he’s above us all just because he was in a soap opera and he used to go out with Marilyn Castro.”

  Elan snickered.

  “Did they tell you that I did it intentionally—the accident?”

  “No,” he answered, straightening his back. “I didn’t get the story from the others. I heard it from Jules.”

  “Oh,” she sighed. “You know I could have. Done it intentionally.”

  He made a small smile. “Well, did you?”

  She squinted. “I can’t trust you. You’re not my lawyer.”

  “You didn’t do it,” Elan concluded. It was possibly the best thing he could say at the moment.

  “Nice of you to think that, but what do we do now?”

  Elan shrugged. Caty put a hand on his shoulders, “What did I tell you about shrugging, Judy.”

  He let out a laugh.

  “And you’ve been doing so well all night too,” she continued. “The dancing was an excellent touch. Any other skills you’ve been hiding from me?”

  “Plenty,” he answered without hesitation.

  Caty’s eyes widened, and she leaned in closer to him. “Show me.”

  “No,” Elan shook his head. “Best you just discover them over time.”

  Caty smiled, positioning her chin on his shoulder, their faces close enough to remind her of how they had kissed before.

  Briefly.

  “Are we becoming friends?”

  “Thought we already were.” Elan’s brows met. “In some way.”

  Caty leaned back. “Mmm. Maybe you’re right. See, not having sex made us friends.”

  She had to bring it up. They were in bed, again, and the last time that happened, it turned out badly.

  He cleared his throat. “You think if we’d done it then, you wouldn’t be with me tonight?”

  “You mean, if it wasn’t good?

  “Oh, it would have been good.”

  “Cocky.” Caty side-eyed him. “For someone who said he couldn’t do it.”

  He bowed his head and let out a laugh. “For the record, I can; I just didn’t know if I should then.”

  “Because of Juliana?”

  He hesitated, she noted, before he nodded.

  “It’s okay,” Caty sighed. “I like that we’re friends. I don’t have a lot of guy friends.”

  “Why not?”

  “They cross the line most of the time,” she answered honestly.

  “Didn’t we cross the line?”

  “Barely,” she scoffed. “We just kissed. Saw each other almost naked. Touched stuff. Okay, we did. But we weren’t friends then.”

  He laughed but didn’t add anything.

  “Are you gonna ask me about, you know, what happened tonight with Otto?”

  He looked already bored with the possibility of discussing it. He didn’t like Otto, she could tell that much. “Do you want me to?”

  Caty smiled. “I’m asking you.”

  He shook his head. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s over. Am I wrong?”

  “No.” Suddenly she realized that he was exactly right. “It’s most definitely over.”

  “I did note your use of the past tense when you told me how you felt about him.”

  “Did you?” She leaned back, raised her legs to the bed to make herself more comfortable.

  “I get it. Just because you miss someone doesn’t mean you want them back,” he said.

  “Are we talking about someone else now?”

  Elan smiled. “No, we’re still talking about you.”

  “I don’t really miss him,” she sighed. “I miss being wanted the way he wanted me. Which is wrong, because I think he never really wanted me. He just strung me along. I was young, so I didn’t know better.”

  He grimaced, tugged on his tie in an attempt to remove it.

  “You look cute when you’re annoyed.”

  “I’m not.”

  She leaned forward and removed his tie for him. “Hmm, we’ve covered this before.”

  His hand touched hers for a moment before she laid the tie down.

  Caty cleared her throat. “Let’s talk about you now.”

  “Me?”

  “What’s your damage?”

  Elan laughed. “You think I’m damaged?”

  “Please. We’re all damaged.” Caty rolled her eyes as if this was all true and supported by facts. “I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong with you.”

  “Well, thanks,” he said in a monotone.

  “Don’t take that the wrong way.” Caty took one of the pillows and laid it on her lap. “I like you.”

  “You have an odd way of expressing it.”

  “Anyway, since you’ve heard stories about me from this town, why don’t you tell me some stories about you? So we’re at least even?”

  “My stories aren’t as exciting as yours.” He offered to take off her shoes, and she accepted.

  “I don’t care,” she whispered. “You owe me the stories.”

  Elan smiled and watched her scoot down to rest her head on the pillow, hands folded over her belly. He wrapped his hands around her ankles, and she sighed with contentment at the warmth of it.

  “I can talk to you about some cases I’ve read about instead.”

  Her eyes widened. “And tell me about how wretched people are?”

  He started to rub her tired feet. Caty smiled. “And maybe how they’re mostly misunderstood?”

  He ran a hand up to her calf. “There was a case about this teen. He was adopted. His parents were great. Well, at least on paper.”

  The bed was comfortable, and Caty realized how her feet ached because of the heels she’d been wearing. The thing he was doing to her feet, pressing and stroking them, made her want to sink farther down. She could live like this, she thought. Being tended to. Touched and cared for.

  “He was their only child. The
couple was a bit old. They couldn’t have kids when they were younger and later on decided they wanted a child. So they adopted him.”

  Caty put a hand on her face. “Did his biological parents want him back?”

  “No.”

  “He ran away to look for his real parents, like in telenovelas?”

  He paused. She met his eyes, immediately missing the sensation of his hands on her ankle.

  “He robbed the couple.”

  “Yikes.”

  “He killed them too.”

  Caty jolted, kicking Elan in the process, but he caught her foot and laughed. “Oh my God, why would you even tell me that?”

  “And you wanted me to believe you intentionally hit someone with your car?”

  She sat up. “You’re horrible. I am so not having kids after that.”

  “You asked for a story.”

  “I meant a nice one!” Caty pouted. “How are you not disturbed?”

  Elan simply raised his eyebrows and laughed nervously, but he said nothing. Caty hoped he would keep talking. She needed to know more about him, but he cleared his throat and looked back at her instead. “You just get used to it.”

  “I get it. You’re attracted to messed up people. That’s your drift.”

  “You’re not messed up.”

  A smile slowly crept up her lips. “Can we talk about something else now?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Where did you learn to dance?”

  “I tagged along to dance classes with my sister. She told me she’d wash the dishes for the entire summer if I did it. Totally worth it.”

  “You have a sister,” Caty smiled, taking what she could get. She reminded herself that she’d only met Elan twice, and she knew very little about his life. But she was comfortable with him in the same way people who had shared important moments in their lives were.

  Elan nodded.

  “Any other siblings?”

  “No, it’s just us.” He paused. “Are we doing this? We’re talking about family?”

  “What would we rather talk about?” She laid her head back down. “This bed’s really comfortable, by the way.”

  “I’ll mention that to the receptionist when I check out tomorrow.”

  “You’re leaving too?”