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He nods his head, obliging my request, then he lets go of my elbows to graze a hand down my forearm, taking my palm in his and pulling me towards the modular dance floor. I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t dance anymore. Jenna, Lainey, and I used to go out all the time. We’d drink, dance, let ourselves look like fools, and I never had a care in the world because we were together.
Then enter my most recent ex-boyfriend. One night out he told me that I look too uptight, too stiff, too caught up in my thoughts to let the music flow through me. And believe me, once someone tells you that you look uptight when you dance, all that goes through your mind when you’re trying to dance is exactly that.
I hadn’t seen Jim on the floor at all this evening, not even the occasional slow song with one of the other bridesmaids. Before I can muster up some impression of what type of dancer he is, we reach the center of the floor, and he immediately breaks into a version of The Carlton mixed with The Electric Slide before reaching an arm for me. He spins me out and quickly pulls me back to his chest, forcing a laugh out of me.
“Jesus, Jim.” I giggle as he finds a rhythm, pulling me close, his hand above my butt keeping me in line with his hips. I throw an arm over his shoulder and clasp the back of his neck, holding on for dear life as he spins and twirls us around the dance floor. He presses his cheek against mine and says, “I think you’re dancing, Meg.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing, but I think everyone is staring at us.”
“Who cares if anyone is watching as long as you’re having too much fun to notice.”
I pull back to look at his face, the corner of his mouth twitching in a satisfied smile. “I wouldn’t call this dancing so much as you whipping me around in circles.”
He shrugs as he takes that opportunity to dip me. “Maybe, but it got you in my arms, didn’t it?”
He holds me in the dip for a few seconds, and I take the opportunity to stretch my neck out, letting my head tip towards the floor. I grab onto his large shoulders to pull myself up, not sure how to respond when Lainey comes bumbling by.
“Meg!” She shoves her glass of champagne in Jim’s hand, causing a little of her drink to slosh over the side. “Hold this, please. Can you believe I’mmarried?” She grabs onto his free forearm for balance and uses her spare hand to slip off her heels and toss them into the grass behind her. Before she can reach for her glass, I put both of my hands on her shoulders and shake her back and forth.
“You’remarried!”
“I’mmarried!” she squeals, eyes sparkling with happiness. She takes her flute back from Jim and tilts her head to finish it off.
Following Lainey’s lead, I hold onto Jim’s other side and slip off my heels, throwing them as far as I can and honestly hoping they fall into a pit of quicksand, never to return.
Fuck you, Jimmy Choo.
Feeling a lightness take over, I turn back to Jim and raise a hand in question. “What’s the deal Charlie-boy, are you going to stand there all night or get the girl a drink so she can dance?”
“I hate that nickname.” He may say that he hates it, but each time I say it his reaction is the same—cheeky grin, faint blush on his cheeks, slight shake of his head. He loosens his tie and starts taking a few steps backwards while keeping his gaze locked onme. “Whatever you want, Megan.” I can’t help the way my body immediately reacts to his words, a rush of air starts somewhere low and flies up through my chest and out to my shoulders, lifting me up and making me feel full, but in a good way.
No one calls me Megan. My best friends call me Meg, and my parents call me Meggy after a childhood nickname. Jim calls me Meg, occasionally, but every once in a while, he uses my full name. Even though it’s one of the most common names there is, each time he says it is like a mini compliment, a secret shared only with us.
Lainey watches our interaction with wide eyes, and once Jim turns, she plasters herself to my side, grabbing my elbow to pull me to her level. “Um…can I ask whatthatwas, my dearest friend?”
I roll my eyes and look down at her. “Thatwas just two guests having fun at your wedding.”
Ryan approaches from the side and plants a sweet kiss on her cheek as he hands her another glass of champagne. “What are we talking about?”
“Just how Jim and Meg seem to be having a good time together tonight,” Lainey says teasingly.
“Doesn’t surprise me one bit.”
“Oh?” Lainey says at the same time I say, “and what the hell does that mean?”
Ryan looks down at both of us, back and forth before raising his brows a bit and taking a sip of his cocktail. “Jim’s an awesome guy. He’d be good for Meg.”
I hold up a hand to him. “Ah, okay stop right there. I don’t need anyone to begoodfor me.”
“Jim might not know what you're going through,” he says, voice softening, “but he’d never jeopardize what you have, Meg.”
“Maybe. But I’m not looking for a relationship, or anything, really.”
Ryan shrugs. “Neither was I, and now we are standing at my wedding reception.” He pulls Lainey in and kisses her roughly, nipping her bottom lip when she tries to pull away.
“Christ, you two. Get a room.”
“Trust me, I’ve already asked but she’s making us stay.” Ryan playfully slaps Lainey’s hip, and she giggles.
