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“Tell me more about prom. Since you so keenly recall the circumstances of the evening.”
“You mean you don’t?”
“Oh, I remember.” His lips hovered over hers, his breath warm against her mouth. “I remember every last hitched breath and honey-sweet taste.” He backed away, taking some of her focus off the past and placing it squarely in the present. “I want your take on it.”
“It was a lot like tonight.” She rested her other hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “You kept promising to treat me well after we left the dance. I was nervous, and you were totally collected.”
“I was not.” He chuckled, his grin both boyish and charming. “I was scared to death I’d screw up and you’d hate it and never touch me again.”
“You were?” How had she not known? “Confident, capable Vic Grandin?”
“I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
His sincerity was an arrow to her heart. She wrapped both arms around his neck and held him close. “You didn’t disappoint me.”
“No, I didn’t. But there was a power shift that night.” He led her into a smooth turn. She followed, finding it easy to trust him. “You could get me to do that anytime you wanted.”
“What about now? You don’t seem as easily convinced.”
He kept his smile, and he didn’t tell her no. Maybe she was getting somewhere.
“We’ve been seeing each other, but we haven’t seen enough of each other, if you catch my meaning.”
He angled his head, those dark eyes sparkling with thoughts he wasn’t sharing. He’d caught her meaning, all right. She toyed with his hair, scraping her fingernails upward. A slight shake spanned the width of his shoulders. Yes, she was far from powerless when it came to Vic. He was as weak for her as she was for him.
“It’s been a couple weeks since we rolled around in bed together. We’re due. Don’t tell me you don’t want me, too. I can see it.”
“You can feel it, too.” He grabbed her hips and bumped his pelvis against her. A hard, unyielding part of him had definitely received the sex memo and was on board.
His gaze slid to the side, presumably to check if anyone was watching them—they weren’t. “You have talked me right into trouble. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
She beamed up at him. She was, actually.
“Stay here with me for a song or two so I can calm down, and, I beg of you, talk about anything else.”
“Anything?”
“Anything not sexy.” He raised an eyebrow.
“You’re no fun in your old age. I recall you eagerly sliding the hotel key card into the door and tearing my prom dress in your haste to have me naked.”
“Yeah, well, what you don’t know is how hard it was for me to last longer than getting you naked took,” he said, and she had to laugh.
It wasn’t like him to be self-deprecating. He wore it well, though the expression of chagrin faded into one of complete and utter confidence in a blink. That long-ago night, he had lasted a lot longer than he’d jokingly stated. She’d been ready to go again shortly after, and so they had. The lie she’d told her parents about them going to a friend’s party after the dance was easy to justify. She was in love. Vic was the only one for her. What better way to spend her prom night than in his arms?
She’d been an hour and a half late for her 2:00 a.m. curfew, but her mother hadn’t been upset. Dad had been another story, but her mom refused to let him stay angry. “We were young once, too, Eddie,” Mary had reminded him.
“Those were the good ole days,” Vic said, sounding oddly solemn. “We didn’t know it back then.”
“Hello. We’re not dead yet. We have plenty of good days left. If you’d let yourself have a little fun.” She poked him in the center of the chest and waited for him to laugh and agree. He didn’t.
“There are times you’re not remembering, Aubrey.” Pain bloomed in his brown eyes. “All couples argue. You don’t remember the bad times.”
“I don’t remember many times, bad or good,” she amended. “But I know what feels right. This feels right. Being apart, even for a few days, feels wrong. I understand why we chose to live separately initially, but it doesn’t make sense to me now. No matter what memories return about us arguing over where to eat for dinner or who should drive to the restaurant, I can’t imagine not wanting you.” His heart pounded, strong and sure, against her palm. “I’m not as fragile as my doctor and my parents believe. I’m here, Vic. All of me. That fall didn’t change the core of who I am.”
He stopped moving, standing still in the middle of the dance floor, his eyes drilling into hers as other couples swished around them in a blur.
“I hope with everything I am, Aubrey Collins,” he said, his lips hovering over hers, “that you’re right.”
“I’m right,” she promised, leaning up for a kiss he returned. As his mouth moved over hers, she lost herself in the moment. A beautiful moment she promised to remember until her dying day.
