Thirty minutes later Emma was on the dance floor, owning it like she always had, for all the years I had known her. I always wished I had the sparkle she had.
Our soaked hair—mine dark blonde, hers a perfect medium brown—was now beginning to mix with sweat. My shirt was sticking to me just sitting, so I was sure Emma was sweating even more so.
Emma had insisted on dressing me today, and I wished I would’ve put up more of a fight, and picked my own clothes out. The blouse she had picked for me, along with the blue jean skirt that barely reached mid-thigh, made it difficult to dance. But the boots I donned gave me an iota of confidence that I didn’t look like a baby deer learning to walk as I danced. My mother’s boots, one of a handful of things I had of my mother’s. I cherished them.
Emma wore her one-piece, black silk romper and booties that showed off her strong thighs and legs. It was cut low, displaying her other assets. Her jewelry matched perfectly, popping out with color to compliment her style, Kendra Scott, which she had in every color.
I had insisted on my leather earrings that were light but showed my simple style, the look of not sticking out, but belonging.
The cover band was playing their fair share of hits and she hadn't sat down once. She had memorized all the words after hearing them so often. She could probably recite the words a cappella. As in normal Emma style, she was getting the attention she always craved. She had always been the one whose eyes were immediately taken with, the star of the show.
I was the exact opposite though. It always took people a second look before they realized I was worth looking at. Maybe it was the brunette hair in contrast to my blonde, or maybe it was just the energy she radiated.
But, in all friendships, I think there was that person who was immediately noticed, and then one who wasn’t.
I had sat tapping my foot, ready to dance, but wasn't going to go out there by myself. Not yet anyway. I had to get my nerve up. I was getting there, but just wasn't there yet. I needed a break-in period of sorts and some time to work myself up.
“Would you come on and dance?” Emma pursued me, grinning with her white smile and raspberry lipstick pulling me along.
“I guess…” She wasn't exactly giving me a choice.
“You made me run through the rain, getting my hair soaked, and could have ruined my makeup and now you are sitting there… Nah…”
Feeling the music was never one of my problems. It was just the getting started part. I had no problem making a fool out of myself, but I had to switch into that next gear to get ignited.
Moving my hips with my arms in the air, I lost myself in the words of a song I was in love with. The lights were blinking around, setting the mood of the music, and changing to the beat in the song with a rhythm that was taking over my movement. My body had begun to move on autopilot and my brain had paused.
Yes, this was exactly what I needed.
Then the next song came on and Emma and I danced together, swinging each other around, not caring on who would be watching, mouthing the words.
Tonight was about us.
Until it wasn't anymore.
“Hi, ladies, would either of you like to dance? Or have a drink?”
I smiled at Emma and she was immediately smitten. I was not impressed in the least. Cocky much? And did he bathe in his damn cologne? I was getting a headache just smelling it, and he had been standing here for less than two minutes.
He reached out his well-manicured hand out for us to shake. “I’m Cash.”
Emma spoke up, introducing both of us, giddy with excitement. She was acting as if he was a famous star.
His long-sleeved business shirt was pressed and rolled up his forearms, with jeans that looked as if they had only been worn once. A businessman, not my forte, or my interest. Been there done that. Move on.
“I’m good. Emma?” I passed the hot potato to her, hoping to brush him off and make it noticeable that I had no interest. Hopefully, she’d do the same. It was girls’ night, after all.
I had hoped she would tell him to get lost since tonight was about her and me. We hadn't been out in forever and it was my first night out in a long time.
“I would love a drink… dance… sure both.” Okay… I was wrong. Her focus had been redirected. She would be in love by the end of the night with the stranger who would be more in love with himself than her.
She began to follow the stranger and I shrugged my shoulders in frustration. I stood there for a minute before following them, throwing my hands up in the air.
They stopped at a small circular wooden table and I followed suit.
“This is my brother, Wyatt.” He introduced him as if he was dismissing him at the same time, not worth the breath in his lungs.
“I’m Breigh.” I announced with a little wave.
I watch as Cash’s brother, Wyatt, took a sip of his beer and then sat it back down, clearly irritated. I knew the feeling. The look in his eye was of anger, frustration, or disgust.
Mr. Full of Himself and Emma walked off to the bar and I took the seat farthest from the brother.
I wasn’t a scorned woman, but I just didn't have any desire to fraternize at this point in my life. Okay, maybe a little scorned. I’d always given everyone a chance when it came to guys, but that stopped after my ex. I would proceed with caution.
Unlike Emma, who has always been a hopeless romantic, I was not naïve enough to think there was “someone” waiting for me. I
