Page 130 of Beautiful Thing

She gives her head a slight shake. “I know that I invaded your space and I broke your rules and I crossed all your lines. But thank you for always treating me kindly, for never taking my dignity away from me.”

There’s nothing I could say to that. So I just lean down and kiss her. She kisses me back, and for a moment, everything that was wrong, suddenly feels right again.

We get lost in our own world, shutting out everything else. The night gets later, and we continue to dance. We continue to drink. It’s the best I’ve felt in a long time. Layla in my arms. The alcohol turning off my brain. It’s fucking fantastic.

I’m not all that talented when it comes to the faster, more upbeat songs, but I’m finding that I don’t need to know what I’m doing. I just need to stand here and sway as Layla wiggles her ass all over me.

The only hard thing is trying to remember that we’re not alone here on this wedding reception dance floor and that I have to keep my hands in PG-approved areas.

At the end of the night, Mom comes back to tell us that the celebrations are winding down. “Felix and Daphne have already left, and the last guests are on their way out,” she says.

I look around and realize that the tent is virtually empty. Damn. Layla and I were so wrapped up in each other that we didn’t even notice the place emptying out.

Grandma sidles up beside Mom, waggling a finger at us. “And neither of you is driving home tonight after drinking.”

Mom nods. “Karli and your brothers are all staying in their old rooms tonight. You can sleep in your old room.”

The two bossy women don’t wait for an answer before leading the way to the house.

Layla and I trade a look. We haven’t been getting intimate. We stopped spending our nights together. We’ve re-established a line between us.

And now, we’re stuck here with just one bed to share.

I mumble by her ear. “I…I can sleep on the couch or…”

She quickly shakes her head at me. “I will.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch,” I declare firmly, glaring at her.

Layla’s silent for a moment before agreeing with me. “It would look suspicious if your girlfriend didn’t sleep in your room,” she whispers back.

Then her gaze travels to my lips, lingering there and turning heated before bouncing to my eyes. I feel the temperature rise inside me.

Fuck it.

We don’t have to speak another word to come to a consensus. Snatching a bottle of champagne to go, I grab her hand and we creep inside. I can hear my siblings in other parts of the house, but no one pays us any mind.

Still, we try to tiptoe up the stairs, which somehow goes completely awry. The quieter we try to be, the louder we get, laughing and shushing each other all the way to my childhood bedroom.

Once inside with Layla, I kick off my stiff dress shoes and fall back onto my old bed. Luckily, with being the oldest sibling, I lucked out with a full-size bed, but it’s still tiny as hell for two adults.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” I tease Layla as I watch her wobbling around. “I thought you could outdrink me?”

She grumbles dramatically. “I’m not drunk! See? If I was drunk, could I walk in a straight line?”

She tries to prove her point, adorably hobbling from one side of my bedroom to the other end. She’s still wearing her bridesmaid dress, but she lost her heels on the way up the stairs.

I lean back against my pillows, getting comfy. “A runway walk? Fancy. Now do a little spin for me.”

With a giggle, she spins. Then she shakes her hips.

All the blood runs toward the center of my body.

I press a hand to my chest. “Ooh! I get a little shimmy, too? Tonight must be my lucky night.”

“Yeah, I think you’re about to get lucky.” She bites down on her lower lip. She reaches around, unzipping the back of her gown, and starting to undress for me.

My heartbeat quickens. No one’s ever stripped for me before. I’m dying for a peek at her gorgeous curves.

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