Page 20 of Night Fever
Hendrick regards me quietly from across the table. The lights overhead are dim and almost flicker, and I think one of them is about to burn out. It almost sounds like it’s buzzingfaintly.
“I grew up in places like this,” Hendrick says, waving a waitress over with a kind hand in the air. “Two coffees,please.”
He turns his attention back to me and watches my eyes as I look down at thetable.
“I’m sorry about what happened back there,” I say. “I know it’s not a cute look to dothat.”
“Everything you do is cute,” he quips, raising an eyebrow atme.
I feel my insides warm up at hiswords.
“Not everyone thinksthat.”
“Your father?” he says meaningfully as his eyes come up to meet mine. Everything about him is calming, soothing. I’ve felt as though I’m on a rocky sea, adrift and floating with no anchor and nothing to hold onto, grasping at waves that crash against my fingers while my feet try to find the ocean floor butwon’t.
I feel like Hendrick is my rock rightnow.
“Yes,” Isay.
“Well, if it’s worth anything, I’m not thinking about you leaving the party suddenly.” He leans forward and his eyes drag down to my lips, making my insides swirl with want, making me clench up at the absence of him inside me. I can still feel his kisses on the insides of my thighs, feel his lips on my arms and shoulders and everywhere else he could get to. “I’m thinking about you spread open on that bed in your attic. I’m thinking about how good and delicious your ass looked in thatdress.”
I melt and feel my lips purse as he reaches over and puts his hand on the side of my head, gently putting his thumb against mytemple.
“I know there are things you’re not telling me. And you don’t have to tell me anything at all. But if you want to, I’m here to listen. And if you just want me to drag you into the bathroom to bend you over the sink again and make you forget your own name, I can do that instead. Whatever youwant.”
The waitress brings over our coffees and drops off those little plastic half-and-halfs withthem.
“I think these are the same mugs they used twenty years ago,” I smile as Hendrick gently pushes one of the coffees to me across thetable.
“If I may ask,” Hendrick says, “why did you walk away when your dad told you not todrink?”
I clear my throat and feel that familiar heaviness inside me. It’s still there, but strangely, if feels as though it’s beginning tolift.
“I should start with something else,” I say, “you asked me if I snuck all my boyfriends up to the attic. The answer is no, Hendrick. No. Because before you...there was no oneelse.”
I take a deep breath in and hold it there. As if I’m underwater, I hold my breath steadily, keeping my lungs full, anticipating hisresponse.
“No one before me?” he says, his expression becoming dark, dangerous. I breathe out and then in again, now more aware of his incredibly masculine scent thanever.
“No one,” I reply. My body clenches at the recent memory of him claiming me, taking me, and making me his. Filling me up and making me cry out in pure desire forhim.
“I want to take you out for your birthday,” he says, taking my hand inhis.
“We’re already out,” I laugh, taking a sip of my coffee. His strong, secure hand feels so big around mine. He makes me feel safe and protected for the first time in a longtime.
“Then let me take you home,” he says. “To the place that’s really home for me. Would you like to dance withme?”
“Yes,” I say, my lips curling up into a small smile. “I’d love todance.”
I watch as Hendrick gets up from our little booth, sliding out and standing next to the table, putting his hand out tomine.
“Here?” Isay.
“Yes,” he says, motioning with his head for me to join him. “I told you I wanted to take you home. And right now, that’s right here with you dancing in myarms.”
I stand up in near disbelief at how his heart can speak to mine, my insides fluttering with energy andexcitement.
“I’ve always said that whenever I dance I’m home,” I say softly as he pulls me against his chest, sliding a strong hand behind my back and lacing my fingers through the fingers of his otherhand.
