Page 74 of Why Not Both?

“To random Friday nights,” Derek says.

“To beer and mojitos,” I say.

Lis turns to me with an evil smirk and my heart is pounding as I wait for her toast.

“To dancing,” she says. We finish the last round of drinking and then she turns from me to… Adalie. “Come dance with me?” she asks.

Adalie grins and the women get up and make their way to the dance floor, laughing, linking arms, and leaning close together to talk. I watch them walk away and then quickly turn back to the table.

“Son of a fucking bitch.”

“What?”

“She’s wearing those shoes.”

“What shoes?”

“The ones she wore that first night. When I took her home. Her fire engine red fuck me shoes.”

I can’t help looking at her again on the dance floor. She’s laughing at something Adalie has said. And fuck if she isn’t gorgeous. I want to be out there with her, but she asked Adalie instead, so I remain in my seat and drink my beer.

“You’re going to be pining all night, aren’t you?” Derek asks.

I turn back to him. “Self-imposed torture. I’m a masochist. Who knew?”

He lifts a hand, indicating that he’d known, but doesn’t say the words. “By the way. Isn’t that yours?”

He points to a black garment slung over the back of Lis’ chair. And he’s right. Instead of bringing a jacket, she brought my hoodie. At some point, she has completely stopped trying to return it, eventually wearing it without me telling her to. It’s been a delightful form of torture, seeing her in my clothes and not being able to take it off her.

“It might be mine,” I finally say.

“Well, it was nice knowing you, man.”

I laugh, but I also realize I’m okay with it. The longer I spend with her, the more I’m certain: Lis is the woman of my dreams and I just have to wait for her to be ready. She’ll get there.

The women return from the dance floor. We finish our drinks and order more. We laugh and tell stories. And Adalie and Lis continue to dance together, never inviting me or Derek to join them. We talk about crashing their dancing party, but neither of us do anything about it. Derek because he’s checking out our waitress. Me because I want to a little too much.

I’m maybe a little bit drunk as the night gets closer to midnight—my self-imposed curfew. Derek and I have decided we’re on our last beers when I notice a couple of guys hitting on Adalie and Lis. My blood turns hot and I’m about to get up when Derek reaches over and stops me.

“Not yet,” he says.

But we both watch. We wait to see if the women are interested. They are both technically single, after all, even if I already think of Lis as mine. They shake their heads at the men, but are still smiling, still dancing. We watch as the smiles disappear because the men aren’t taking the hint.

“Now,” I say. And this time, Derek agrees.

Without needing to discuss it, he moves toward Adalie and I stalk to Lis. She sees me coming a moment before I reach her and I scoop her against me like I’ve wanted to do since I first saw her tonight.

“Hi,” I say.

She tilts her head back so she can look up at me, her hands on my arms, a slightly dazed look in her eyes. Damn the darkness of the bar. I can’t tell if they’re blue or green right now.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hey man,” the guy who had been hitting on her says.

I send him a cold look and he takes in the way she’s plastered against me, still looking up at me like I’m a fucking knight in shining armour.

“Nevermind,” he says and turns away.

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