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“First, I took her for a ride on my motorcycle…” Troy starts, but is abruptly cut off by Will, who apparently wants to join the conversation now.
“You have a bike? What kind?” He’s eager to talk about it, but Bri rolls her eyes as if this is a topic she shuts down frequently.
“A zx-10.”
“Dude, that’s sweet. How long have you had it?” The guy is clearly jealous.
“I’m surprised that someone in Alana’s family rides a motorcycle. They don’t seem like the type.” Bri’s words come out snarky, void of all the excitement she had a moment ago.
“They do actually. Her great uncle, my grandpa, taught me how to ride.” Troy answers confidently, as if it was true. It could have been. The guy in reference was part of a motorcycle gang in the 70s. You can discover a lot on the internet.
She stares back at Troy as if she’s offended by his answer. He chuckles.
“Well, tell me the rest of your story.” She demands it, and I notice her ring finger wrapped around her wine glass is bare. Love makes people crazy.
“Nah, I think I’d rather keep that memory for ourselves,” Troy smirks at her before leaning in to kiss me. How is a pretend conversation making me… I don’t know. I want to kiss him. I want to rip his clothes off. I want to keep him.
Bri drinks the last half of her glass in one gulp before turning to the man who is clearly not her husband. “Will, I need another drink, let’s go.”
As soon as she’s out of ear shot, I look back at Troy, shaking my head.
“Rich people.” The words leave both of our mouths at the same time, and we burst into laughter.
“We work well together, Lex.”
“Yeah, maybe we do.” I sigh. “Oh, I LOVE this song,” I squeal when “Yeah,” by Usher, comes on, shocked at the quality of music on this reception playlist. Middle school wasn’t exactly full of happy memories, but how can you not feel nostalgic with it? I down the last few sips of my beer before locking my fingers around Troy’s wrist. “Dance with me.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Nope. You have to do what I want now if you want to do what you want later.” I pull myself into him.
“That’s not fair, you want to do what I want later too.” I catch him grin as he buries his hands into my curls before kissing me the way that he does, hard and soft at the same time. How does he do that? Why do I love it so much? “Okay, let’s go.” He leads me onto the nearly full dance floor.
For how fancy this wedding seems, I’m surprised these rich people are dancing like unchaperoned high schoolers. Even though the temperature is cold, I’m on fire, surrounded by all these people, grinding into Troy, his hands running down my sides. My body moves in sync with his. It’s still strange to me how in tune we seem to be most of the time. I’m having fun, but I wish we were back in his condo, alone, instead of surrounded by strangers. I can’t believe no one even attempted to call us out or question us.
Three minutes later the song ends, and I hear the soft chords of a guitar, of a slow song. I twist toward Troy, about to ask him if he’s ready to go home.
“Mm-mm. No.” He shakes his head, knowing I was attempting an escape. His hands find my waist, and he pulls me to him. “I lovethissong.”
I listen for the words to start. “Kiss Me Slowly,”by Parachute, but an acoustic version. I love this song too. I’ve never slow danced with someone before, but I loop my arms around Troy’s neck and lean into his chest anyway.
“Based on how you were whining, I would have thought you were a terrible dancer,” I whisper in his ear.
“I can’t tell you all my secrets at once.” His laugh vibrates against me. “What would be the fun in that?”
“Tell me something else I don’t know about you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Have you thought about going back to Oregon?”
He holds me tighter against him and kisses my hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I pull back just enough that I can see him. “Except to take me home now, right?
“Yeah, except for that.” He smiles before leading me out of the wedding, back to the car, and into his bed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
