“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare anyone or interrupt anything. I just wanted to ask you before I talked to anyone else. One of my bridesmaids actually had an emergency come up at home. Apparently, her son fell out of the tree in their backyard and broke his arm. She and her husband were both here. They had her mom babysit, and they were going to spend the night. I rented them a suite like I did for the rest of the wedding party. It was expensive, and I don’t want it to go to waste. Would you take it? If not, I’ll try and find someone else.”
Philippe doesn’t even look at me. A slow, lazy smile spreads across his face. I’d classify it thoroughly in the realm of evil as far as smiles go. “Sure, I’ll take the room. Thanks, sis.”
Jennifer gives her brother a relieved look. “I’ll get the room key to you. It’s under my name, so you shouldn’t have any problems with checkout.”
“I’m just glad I don’t have to make my way back here in the morning for your extravagant gift opening of all the things you already have.”
Jennifer pulls a face. “You’re such a dick. You know that? Good to know you haven’t changed a bit, at heart.” She turns to me. “Has this jerkus told you about all the things he used to do to me when we were kids? How he’d pull off all the heads of my dolls, freeze them in blocks of ice, and display them all around the house where he knew I’d find them before they melted? It was seriously disturbing.”
“Sounds like it,” I agree as easily as I can. I clench my wine glass so tight that I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter.
“He also used to fart on me. He’d run all the way from a different room just to rip one right in front of me. It was disgusting.”
“Sounds like something a brother would do.”
“Do you have a brother? I’d like to hear all about it and see if they were as evil as mine.”
“I’m actually an only child, thank goodness.”
Jennifer punches Philippe on the upper arm. “I’m just kidding. You know I love you, bro. Thanks for coming. And it was so nice to meet you.” Jennifer clearly has other things to worry about, so she rushes off. Now I have bigger things to worry about too.
“I am totally not staying the night,” I lean in towards Philippe and mutter. “Granny is expecting me home.”
He shrugs. “Call her. Tell her you’ll be back in the morning.”
“No! Oh my god. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it would be? Imagine going to tell your mom you’re going to spend the night. In some suite. With me.”
“Alright.” Philippe shoves back his chair and stands. “I’m sure she’ll be really happy. She’ll probably come over and ask you how long it will be before she can start picking out baby clothes.”
“Stop!” I stand too and grab Philippe’s hand. “Don’t you dare!”
“I did say I would take the room,” he relents because I’m obviously getting worked up. “I didn’t say we would. You don’t have to stay. Although…if you do want to, I wouldn’t say no.”
“You wouldn’t say no?” I splutter. “Are you kidding me? This is supposed to be fake!”
“Did last time feel fake?” he whispers throatily against my ear. “Dance with me.” His hand lands on the small of my back, sending a hurricane of sensation fluttering through me. “They just put on some extra sappy song that is a classic wedding DJ move. How can you resist?” He’s clearly changing tactics.
Earlier, I had wished I could dance with him. So how can I say no now?
I could say no. I could. I can practically hear Granny telling me that dancing leads to babies. But really? What will one dance hurt? Honestly, I don’t know if I could say no if I tried. Maybe we can just put a slow dance on the list of things we also don’t talk about. We’ve done worse. Or better. Depends on how you look at it. Maybe he’s just offering so he can accidentally on purpose step all over my feet.
“Sutton?”
Goooood lord, now he’s saying my name in that smooth, silky, buttery soft voice of his, making all my resistance melt away. The song is slowly slipping away too, so it means I’ll probably just have to be out there dancing for a few minutes. Two, maybe three at most. No. Big. Deal. Right?
“Our chance to make fools out of ourselves and endure complete and utter humiliation is passing us by.”
Why? Why does it have to sound so sexy?
“Fine.” I grind my teeth. My jaw relaxes when Philippe’s hand curls around mine and leads me towards the dance floor.
It’s pretty full already, so it means we have to stay in our own little space. Which I’m good with. I was never a great dancer, and I’m more likely to stomp all over his feet than Philippe would be even if he were trying to punish me.
One big hand settles on the small of my back while the other wraps around my shoulders. I don’t so much lean in as I melt against the granite wall in front of me. I reach up and tangle my arms at Philippe’s neck. I brush my fingertips against the coiled muscle there as we begin to sway. His hair tickles my knuckles.
I can’t even hear the music. I’m not sure we’re swaying in time to anything, but this feels so good. So. Freaking. Right. This is hands down the best dance I’ve ever had in my life, even if we’re basically just standing here. Philippe is warm, and I’m pressed up
