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Ha! It served Shelly right. She’d never really known any of us well enough to be aware that Mickey had once been a bit of a sap for me, so I was sure she was absolutely gobsmacked. Especially since he was some sort of rich, borderline celebrity fighter.
I was so busy gloating about her shocked expression that I didn’t really realize what I was doing until I was gently pressed against a warm and solid figure. Oh right, damn, Mickey did really work out.
Geez, it was almost too bad that he had grown out of his crush on me before I was ever really interested in boys. But it wasn’t my fault that I was a bit of a late bloomer. After moving away from where I lived in Toronto when my single mom had passed away from a stroke, I’d gone to live with my Dad. Except my dad turned out to be not cut out for full-time parenting at all, so I’d ended up with my Aunt Trisha.
Now Trisha was a real MVP and ended up becoming my legal guardian. I really couldn’t thank her enough for all of her support and love, and it was only thanks to her and Michelle that I ever survived all that stress and mourning.
But yeah, all that drama and heartache didn’t exactly lend well to a high school romance, so I couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if I had been a normal girl with normal interest. Would Mickey and I have ended up together? Would we be high school sweethearts?
Why was I even thinking about that???
“Hey, you alright?”
“Huh?” I looked up and was surprised to see Mickey’s face so close to mine. Which was silly considering that we pressed into each other for -oh God, was that slow dance music? Yeah, I was definitely hearing some nineties soft ballad about eternal love. How gross.
“I don’t think I got to say it earlier, but you really do look lovely tonight.”
I found myself flushing at his praise. I’d always liked Mickey as a friend. He was funny and smart and into the same sort of weird, fringe stuff I was. He’d always been so lanky and sky, it was still a bit shocking to see him looking so absolutely ripped and confident.
“Thanks. It’s not often I get to get all dolled up.”
He really was something. Around six four and shredded to the gods, I could feel about a dozen appreciative eyes on him with each gentle step we took, his massive hand burning a delicious brand into my soft back.
“Is that so? You should do it more often then. I’m certain there are plenty of people who would appreciate it.”
“Is that so?”
“I know I certainly would.”
Oh really? I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Was the giant of a man flirting with me? Not that I was complaining, but it was a bit surprising. I looked him over again, taking in all the details that had changed since we were kids.
He kept his dark, thick hair cut close to his skull, which I guessed was probably a fighter thing considering that he’d always had a messy mop during high school, and a square jaw that looked like it could definitely take a hit or two. I felt bad that I hadn’t paid nearly as much attention to his MMA career as I should have. After all, he’d always been kind and supportive even with my utter disinterest in romance.
“That’s good to know.”
The conversation faded a bit at that, but it wasn’t out of any sort of awkwardness. No, I was definitely enjoying the feeling of the hard planes of his body pressing against my own soft curves, my cleavage deliciously flush with his. I couldn’t be one hundred percent certain, but I felt like I could sense his heartbeat running counterrhythm to my own.
It was comforting and exciting all at once and I was reminded of how I hadn’t really been touched sexually by a person in two or so years. I was just so busy all the time, I’d forgotten how thrilling it could be.
So, I just let myself get lost in the sensation, feeling desirable and wanted and cherished all at the same time. It was like a scene out of a movie, except I wasn’t being paid to be there and I didn’t have to perform any potentially life-threatening stunts.
The song ended too soon and I pulled away slightly to go back to my table. I had proven my point to Shelly and didn’t need to selfishly take up any more of Mickey’s time. But I was surprised to find his hand still pressing gently into my back, like some sort of promise that I wasn’t used to.
“Maybe one more dance before we go back to conversing like adults with people we won’t see again for a couple years?”
