He sounds so much like Billy Joel, I crane my neck just to make sure.
I’m about to ask Adam what he means when he places his hand atop mine. It sends a spark of electricity through me. “How about a dance?” he asks.
“Dance?”
Adam grins. “Yeah, you know, we move our feet on the floor, hopefully in time with the music.”
“I’m not sure that’s such a good?—”
“Look, we are about to be at my sister’s wedding, and there will be a lot of dancing. There’s a certain synchrony between two people who have danced together before. We need to find it.”
Adam has a point. It will look strange if we’re awkward together.
I allow him to lead me to the dance floor. Before I know it, I’m in his arms, swaying to the singer’s silky voice.
Sing us a song tonight.
I place my arms around Adam’s neck, our eyes locking. Something sizzles in the air between us and it’s not the grilling meat.
Another couple joins us on the dance floor. The scene feels so . . . normal. There was nothing to worry about. No awkwardness. Just the opposite, in fact.
When the song ends, I’m breathless. My heart beats wildly in my chest. Adam’s hands are still on my hips, pulling me closer.
“Adam!”
I’m so startled, for a moment I think Anna is back. Only with a falsetto voice.
We turn to see Zane making a beeline to our table, then coming to a full halt, his dreadlocks flopping with the unexpected loss of momentum. “Whoa, Nellie!” he shouts, gesturing to our now-intertwined hands. “What is happening here?”
I quickly remove my hand, feeling my face redden. Adam and I sit.
Zane asks Adam, “Something you forgot to tell me, bro?”
Adam shares a look with me. “He’s safe.”
Zane’s face registers confusion, then he points between us. “Okay, what are you two up to?”
“Have a seat,” Adam says.
Zane complies.
“Remember my dilemma?” Adam asks.
Zane furrows his brow. “You mean about Steph’s wedding and your made-up fiancée . . . ohhhhh . . . wow.”
While Zane is processing, Adam explains to me, “Zane is the only person besides you who knows about my . . . situation.”
“I see.”
Zane says to me, “That makes you Ronna, I suppose.”
I nod.
“I can’t believe you’re going through with this whole thing, Adam. You know Steph’s gonna catch you.”
“She won’t. We have our story down pat. As a matter of fact, you can help by asking us questions and seeing if we’re consistent.”
“Sounds fun, but I’d rather play some pool, win my money back,” he says, eyeing me.