Song after song played, and every time I tried to sneak to my seat to give my feet a break, Stella pulled me back in. She finally let me go after retreating to the bar to get another margarita.
I teetered back to my seat with shaky legs. Brooklyn laughed as I slumped into my chair, still trying to catch my breath.
“Where does your sister get her energy from?” I asked, fanning my face.
“Who knows? Sometimes I think she has caffeine instead of blood in her veins.”
I laughed, and felt my cheeks start to ache from smiling so much.
“I’m going to get another soda, do you want anything?” Brooklyn asked as he got up from his chair.
“I’m good. Thanks, though.”
He leaned down and kissed my cheek, and I watched him disappear into the sea of people. My heart jumped when Brooklyn’s father lowered himself into Brooklyn’s chair.
“Having a good time?” he asked, taking a sip of water. Although I’d only been around him a few times, I’d never seen him drink, and I wondered how personal of a choice that was.
“Yes, definitely,” I replied. “It’s beautiful here. The hotel, the wedding, everything. Thank you for including me.”
He nodded intently. I followed his line of sight over my shoulder. He had centered in on Brooklyn, who spoke to an elderly gentleman in a gray suit. The two shared a laugh, and it made me smile.
“He’s happy, you know,” Charlie said. “Happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. Maybe I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
I turned back to him. “Really?”
Charlie said nothing, but pointed to the shadow hovering over my shoulder. I turned to face Brooklyn, who held his hand out to me. A light strum of guitar played through the speakers.
“Will you do me the honor?”
His blue eyes gleamed even in the dim streaks of flickering gold light cast over the darkness of the deck. It was like all of the air had been sucked out of the room and then whooshed back in like a punch to the chest. Just like the day we had met.
Except now, it was more than spilled coffee and hot morning sun and worrying about whether or not any of us would have the summer we wanted. Now, he was everything I never even knew I wanted, in all his grinning, charming, larger-than-life glory.
“I’d like that,” I replied as I slipped my hand into his. He gently pulled me to my feet and onto the dance floor. With his arms around my waist, he swayed me back and forth, like a tiny ship on the vast ocean, feeling every ebb and flow, every dip and curve. Everything else around us faded away.
“I’ve never told you this,” Brooklyn said, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “But I’m really glad I crashed into you that day at Otter House.”
“Me too. Although I’m sure my tailbone and my T-shirt weren’t too happy at the time,” I added with a soft grin. I sighed and rested my head on his chest, his arms still draped around me like a layer of armor.
The song ended, but I found it hard to pull away from him. I realized I had been gripping his suit jacket like my life depended on it, and my knuckles were turning white. He tilted my chin up with his hand, brushing his thumb over my lips. My insides fluttered like a caged butterfly, begging to be set free.
“Wanna get out of here?” His voice was low. He jerked his head toward Stella, who’d coerced Alec into being her dance partner, smiling and laughing as they nearly tripped over each other. “We could have some time to ourselves before those two idiots come back.”
I didn’t even care about how quickly I answered. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
Without another word we darted back to the suite, kicking up dirt as we trekked down to the docks and ducked in and out of the streams of light that came from the courtyard.
Brooklyn pulled me through the front door, immediately bringing his lips to mine. He kicked the door shut with his foot, and his hands kept me steady as he pulled me farther into the suite without separating from me. My hands roamed up his chest and rested on his jaw, pulling him closer into me and eliciting a deep moan from him.
I kissed him like his lips were oxygen, and I was suffocating. He touched me like every inch of my skin was an antidote to his poisoned hands. Even when he spoke he kept his lips to mine, breathing life into me so that we didn’t have to come up for air.
“Make love to me,” he whispered, his voice rough as his lips brushed against my ear.
He pulled away from me for a moment, just far enough so that our noses still brushed against one another. His eyes were like a storm, as dark and vast and deep as the ocean, and I was sure I was drowning, but I didn’t care. I’d be content lying at the bottom of his ocean forever. I had to tell him.
“Brooklyn, I—” I whispered, but he put a finger to my lips.
“I know,” he said softly, his breaths heavy on my cheek. His lips grazed against mine. “Me too.”
