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RJ rolled back her shoulders and looked down, reviewing the paperwork. “I don’t have plans, but we shouldn’t spend time together.”
“Cool,” I said, looking at my watch again for no reason.
“Just so we’re clear,” she added, meeting my eyes.
“Crystal clear.” My dick hadn’t gotten the message this thing was over before ever really starting, so I had a troubling mix of arousal and shame swirling through my body at the same time. “I better check in with the DJ. Are you sticking around?”
RJ looked visibly relieved to be talking about work. Her shoulders relaxed incrementally. “Just until they do the signing.”
“Okay, then.” I took two steps away, reminding myself I was a cool adult who was not trying to be a nice guy. “See you later,” I said with a small wave, turning before I was tempted to take in another eyeful of her body in that dress becausedamn, that red dress.
The wedding had a small guest list, so I saw RJ constantly, even when I focused on the DJ—a hipster with an elaborate handlebar mustache and an astounding knowledge of hip-hop—or the caterer’s questions about restocking the Funyun fountain. RJ was always in my periphery, and the brides, these funny, creative women, were killing me, because they first convinced her to stay and then convinced her to dance, so not only was RJ in my periphery in that red dress, but RJ’s body moving in time to the beat in that red dress was also right there.
“Lear! You owe us a dance!” Lola’s cousins pulled me onto the floor to join them as the DJ switched tracks. Bell Biv DeVoe’s “Poison” played, and I immediately looked around for RJ at the throwback to the evolution-of-boy-bands video. She rolled her eyes and I winked, joining the cousins in their moves. A group crowded around us, including Marin, who proclaimed loudly to her new wife that she could be trusted, despite having a big butt and a smile.
A drop of sweat rolled down my back and I turned, looking for an exit from the heat of the dance floor. The DJ shifted to a slow one, a soulful melodic voice sounding out along with piano chords, and everyone around me was coupling off for the song. Standing inthe middle of a dance floor alone as happy couples swarmed around me could have been awkward, but someone bumped me and then I was sprawled alone on the actual danceflooras happy couples swarmed around me.
“Sorry,” RJ said, holding out a hand. “I was looking for an escape.” The twinkle lights behind her framed her face in the twilight and I slowly took her hand, enjoying the soft warmth of her skin and letting her help me up. We were still boxed in, and she smelled like cinnamon, or maybe that was the churros nearby.
“Me, too.” I hadn’t let go of her hand yet, but she hadn’t pulled away.
“But I guess this was payback for when we met.”
I inched closer to her to avoid colliding with the couple behind me. “Not quite. You ran into me that time, too.”
“Maybe, but that time I ended up on the ground.” RJ’s hand slipped from mine.
“You were falling for me from the beginning.”
She laughed, a throaty, warm laugh at my expense. “I think you are falling for your own hype.” RJ tapped my temple. “The odds of me falling for you are so nonexistent, you might as well be dreaming them.”
I met her smug grin but didn’t say anything, waiting for her to catch her own words. When she stopped tapping my temple, her finger grazed my cheek and I thought about asking her the same question I had when we fought about the bar, if she was waiting for me to touch her.
It clicked then, that she’d brought up dreams, and I raised an eyebrow at the subtle twist in her expression. “Don’t even say it,” she said, turning on her heel and sliding through the crowd.
I grinned to myself and walked to the other side of the dance floor, grabbing a handful of Skittles—when in Rome—before stepping away from the tent to check my messages. I had seventeen textsfrom Penny; so glad to see motherhood hadn’t changed her. Instead of replying, I tapped the icon to dial her.
“How did it go?” Her voice was low, quiet, and almost rhythmic.
“Fine,” I said, unsure. “Are you holding the baby, or do we need to have a talk about appropriate timbre for cousins?”
“Connor is asleep and I’m sitting next to the incubator.”
“How is the little one?” I leaned against the side of the building, just out of view of the tent.
Penny sounded tired, despite the lullaby-like tone. “A fighter. Did the caterer get things right?”
I chuckled. I wasn’t sure Marin and Lola had cared about the exact arrangements of their snacks, but Penny had drawn a map of what snacks should be placed where after meeting with the caterer. To say that caterer was stifling an eye roll during setup would be putting it mildly. “Perfect. Everything went fine—a few small hiccups, but Tina prepped most everything, and the couple is happy.”
“Good. Good. And you and RJ got along?”
“We’re professionals.”Also, I can’t stop imagining what kissing her is like and if she’s as ardent about winning in bed as she is everywhere else.I pushed the thought from my head. “Stop checking up on me and go be a parent.” I bit the inside of my cheek, shaking off the creeping emotion saying that had left in me.
“This business was my first baby.”
“I’m an excellent babysitter,” I said, peeking around the corner. “I gotta go, though. They’re about to do their final dance and wrap things up.”
“Okay,” she said in a whisper I hoped was meant for the baby. “Tell RJ I love her.”
