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Chris opened the door for her, offered her his hand, and placed his other hand over her head against the roof of the car. She placed his hand in his and stepped out, feeling like nothing less than a princess.
As they walked inside, Giselle felt his hand on her lower back, leading her. They sat in their seats and the event began. The organizers gave speeches regarding the charity, followed by a silent auction which both Chris and Giselle greatly participated in. Chris won a pearl necklace, which he gifted to Giselle later that night. Giselle won a two-people getaway to Aquaville.
The dinner was served, conversations were had, and pictures were taken. Chris gave a small impromptu interview about their firm's new marketing initiative. Then the guests were led to the ballroom as the last entertainment of the night.
Giselle entered the hall hand in hand with Chris, admiring how beautiful the place looked. The walls were decorated with flowers and the ceiling with chandeliers. Soft music echoed, and she noticed that some couples were already swaying to the music.
And before she could acknowledge it, Chris was leading her to the dance floor.
Chapter 29
Giselle followed Chris to the dance floor, all the while wondering what it was like to be his girlfriend. Abby felt like the luckiest woman on earth, for he was the perfect gentleman. She wondered what he was like with Abby if he treated his best friend with such importance. Her stomach knotted at the thought.
They faced each other on the dance floor, her having to look up to see into his eyes even with her high heels. The world dissolved around her as he gave her a devilish smile. Her heart picked up its pace and she gulped, thinking how screwed she was for feeling this way. She softly shook her head, smiling at his mischief.
It was only them on the dance floor. It was as if she couldn't see anyone except him.
"Hi," he said, his voice deep.
Don't blush. "Hey..."
Chris chuckled, confirming that her cheeks had, indeed, gotten crimson, as he held her waist with one hand, the other one holding her hand firmly. She placed her left hand on his shoulder. They moved to the music. There was no denying the intimacy of this position.
Giselle noticed how synchronized they were. It was like their minds were aligned. He led her effortlessly, and she knew every step, every twirl, and every dip that he meant to lead her into. Never breaking eye contact, they started grinning at how perfectly they moved together. It was as if they'd practiced before. It was as if they were meant to be here.
The music changed, and the most romantic tune started playing. She smiled at him. Chris raised his eyebrow once, silently asking if she was up for the Bolero dance. Giselle said yes with a long blink of her eyes. It was long overdue.
They were hanging out on a weekend a few years ago, scrolling aimlessly on social media, and they'd watched the dance together. She remembered him saying that he wondered how much practice it would take to move like that. She also remembered her claim that they'd need no practice at all as they were always in sync.
They started moving to the music.
Chris didn't just lead with his body, he also led with his expressions. She quickly understood that he blinked when he was about to dip her, looked up as he was about to twirl her, nodded his head when he was switching positions with her, squinted his eyes when he wanted her to pay attention, and smiled when he just wanted to sway. He'd raise his brows when he was impressed by her, and she was soaking in it.
They got closer, their bodies touching. They moved to her left then right, once back, and then forward. Chris glanced up, and she grinned as she twirled. Her gown flared out into a glistening blur of silk around her, hitting Chris on the legs. They moved back and forth again. Another twirl and he held her hand, softly placing it on his chest instead of his shoulder. She felt the firmness and bit her lower lip, making him glance at her mouth. They moved left and right again, and this time, Chris blinked, so she let herself go into a deep bend, trusting him.
When she stood again, her breath hitched. Chris held her firmly by her waist against him, his face drained of expressions. He stared at her eyes, mouth parted, as if he'd caught himself before saying something. The music still played in the background, and the couples still danced, but they didn't move.
"Chris?" she called. His name had never tasted so sweet on her tongue.
His eyes dropped to her lips, and he let out a shaky breath. She watched him close his eyelids for a moment, gulped, and then opened them. His gaze remained on her lips.
Her heart flipped. She'd never before wanted to be kissed this bad.
Chris tightened his grip around her waist, his fingers digging into her flesh. He looked up into her eyes with an expression Giselle had never seen on him, and it knocked her breath right out of her. He pleaded with his eyes as if he wanted her to understand the things he couldn't say, as if he wanted her to know a secret without having to put it into words, and as if he'd stop breathing if Giselle broke the trance.
Shaking his head, Chris let out another breath and left her. She watched him turn and walk away from her, leaving her bewildered as to what had just happened.
Standing alone in the middle of the crowded ballroom, she waited for a few more moments before following him out into the open.
When she reached the garden, the autumn air chilled her skin instantly. She saw him standing against the hedge, decorated with wires of small rose-gold twinkling lights. It was all that illuminated the empty garden. The faded music in the background dulled their heavy breaths. Giselle watched his tense back, his hands on his hips.
"What happened?" she asked.
He threw his head back in frustration and exhaled as if she was the last person he wanted to see.
It infuriated her. First, he did everything a friend definitely didn't do and then he walked away, and now he was angry with her. What was his problem?
"What's wrong, Chris?" Her voice raised.
