Page 127 of Puck and Prejudice

With mics in hand, both take center stage on the dance floor and begin their banter repertoire.

“Hey, Phil. I hear the wedding party has a special dance number for us tonight,” Benson says.

“Wait a second. Jackson is dancing?” Phil makes an astonished face. “I’d pay good money to see that.”

“No need to pay, buddy. It’s free!”

Phil takes his phone out. “I’d better get ready then. Internet, this will be all over you.”

Jerkfaces. The crowd laughs, but I maintain my serious expression, even though I’m amused. I have to keep those two on their toes. It’s all part of our relationship.

“What’s that about?” Izzie whispers.

“Don’t you know, gorgeous? I’m notorious for my excellent dance moves.” I smirk.

“Uh?”

Frederico moves closer. “Just google Jackson Darcy Stayin’ Alive.”

Her jaw drops as she glances at me. “No way.”

My lips curl upwards. “No comment.”

I lost a bet and had to dance to the famous Bee Gees song. Many people recorded it, but I’m sure Wickham was the one who posted it online, hoping to humiliate me. I didn’t fucking care. My short stint in theater made me immune to embarrassing moments.

“Shoot. The wedding coordinator is giving us the stink eye, Phil,” Benson says. “We need to wrap things up.”

“Okay, okay. Without further ado, give it up for the bridesmaids and groomsmen!”

“May the odds be ever in your favor,” Benson adds, and the reference to a certain fight-to-the-death story makes me grimace.

“Here goes nothing,” I mutter.

My heart is hammering in my chest as we all take our places. Izzie and I are front and center, and hell, I’m really nervous now. It’s fucking stupid. I play in front of thousands of people for my job. I just survived game seven in the Stanley Cup finals, but here I am, with my heart stuck in my throat.

Maybe guessing I’m a wreck, Izzie winks and smiles. It works like a charm. I forget anyone else is in the room and have eyes only for her. When the music starts, I focus on her face. I’ve memorized the steps; I just have to let muscle memory take over.

As we progress through all the Sevillanas, my nerves dissolve into nothing. By the time we finish the dance, only exhilaration remains. Clapping and loud whistles makes me aware of my surroundings once more, but Izzie is all I care about. I step into her space, cradling her face between my hands, and kiss her like there’s no tomorrow. This isn’t a kid’s friendly type of kissing, and soon the catcalling starts and someone in the crowd tells us to get a room. I’m sure it was one of the Kaminski twins.

Izzie is the one who steps back. Her face is beet red, but at least her lipstick didn’t smear. I didn’t even think about her makeup. Oh well. No harm done.

Chad taps my shoulder. “Try to keep it in your pants at the party, okay?”

“Can’t make any promises,” I reply.

“Yes, yes, you can!” Izzie blurts out. “I can feel your aunt’s glare from across the room.”

Ah yes. Aunt Catherine. She didn’t have the best impression of Izzie the first time they met, but neither did I, and look where I am now.

“Don’t worry about her. If you could win me over, getting her to warm up to you will be a walk in the park.”

Chad makes a face—he knows I’m downplaying how terrifying Aunt Catherine can be—and I warn him with my eyes to keep his mouth shut. I don’t need Izzie worrying about my aunt right now.

“Yeah. She’s very pleasant once you get to know her,” he says, lying through his teeth.

Izzie doesn’t pick up on his sarcastic comment. She hasn’t known Chad long enough to notice those little details about him. It’ll come.

Jane joins us. “You two danced beautifully. I had tears in my eyes.”

---