AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“She was right,” he chuckles.
“Who was? The ginger from the wedding?”
He lifts his eyes from what he is doing with his fingers and cocks an eyebrow, “What ginger?”
I snort, “Now we will pretend she doesn't exist?”
I found it. Another reason I was so pissed about tonight and this shouldn't even have a place in the grand scheme of things, but somehow, it found its way in.
“Nora?” He lifts both eyebrows this time.
“Is that her name?”
“You are jealous of Nora?”
“I am not jealous of Nora, I just think it was rude for her to take you away like that,” I shrug.
“But she asked for your permission.”
“And what was I supposed to do?”
“Keep me,” he pins and it sounds more like keep me to yourself.
“I… I thought you wanted to go?” I stutter.
“If I needed to go do something important, I would have excused myself,” he clips.
I nod, and walk to the table, “So she is a friend from the past?” I sit opposite him.
“Rosaline, I haven't fucked Nora, if that's what you are asking, she is lesbian,” he leans back in his seat.
“Oh,” I lean back in my seat, and shrug, “That wasn't what I was asking, I was just - you know…” I trail.
“Know what?” He cocks his eyebrow.
“I was just asking like…” I trail again.
“Like what?” He leans forward.
“Oh, drop it,” I smack my lips.
He laughs, a burst of soundless laughter but unrestrained, and his eyes do not have anything they're hiding this time.
I place my hands on my chest to check on my skipping heart. He looks younger and beautiful. The way his eyes light up and his cheeks dent. The veins on his forehead and side of his neck. The slight shuddering of his body and the tightening of his stomach. All of it makes for a heart-skipping combination and I join in, not wanting to miss this moment.
He leans back on his seat, “I was talking about the receptionist,” he pulls the black velvet drape by the side of the loveseat to reveal a breathtaking view and a jazz band performing.
I gasp, “It's beautiful,” I smile.
“You want to dance?” He stands and holds out his hand, “I don't know what they're playing but it sounds good,” he opens the window to let the soothing sound in, flooding the space.
“I don't know what they're playing either,” I chuckle, then take his hand.
I have this urge to bottle up this reprieve I'm getting at this moment. I feel like anything can happen. And maybe I’m just affected by the sudden loss of my father, or maybe I just want to dance with Benedetto.
He pulls me to his chest and holds me firmly, one hand on the small of my back, and the other by the side of my waist. I summon the courage to wrap my arms around his waist and let him lead us to the rhythm that suits the moment.
“You have nothing to be jealous of because I only have eyes for you,” he adjusts his head so his cheek rubs mine tenderly, “And even if I walk into a room full of your clones, I'd still single you out, Rosaline. Because this, this thing,” he searches my gaze as he points a finger at his heart, “it's customized for you.”
