Page 88 of Love Undiscovered
Remi meets my eyes again, a horrified expression on her face. “I’m so sorry, Chance. That must have been horrible for you.”
“It happens,” I say. “I’m over it now, but at the time I was devastated. At the betrayal and at the loss of what I thought was going to be an idyllic life.”
“There’s no such thing.”
“You wait until now to tell me,” I say dryly.
She laughs softly, then asks, “Did you sing to her?”
“I did, a couple times.”
“Did you sing that song to her?” Her voice is almost shy.
“What song? The one I sang to you?”
She nods.
“No. I’ve only ever dedicated that song to you.”
She nods her head and seems to accept my answer.
I'm relieved.
I don't want her to be angry. And I definitely don't want her thinking that the song I sang to her is my move or something. One step closer to salvaging the evening after Hurricane Helen blew in.
“She’s really pretty,” she says.
“She doesn’t hold a candle to you,” I say.
She scoffs. “You have to say that, you’re here in the bathroom with me.”
“Let’s get out of the bathroom, I’ll say it again.”
She giggles.
“I like making you laugh,” I admit.
“I like it when you make me laugh.” She seems to soften toward me a bit.
Thank God.
“Do you promise it’s over?” she asks, looking so vulnerable I want to say anything to make her feel whole again.
“It never even began.”
I take her hand in mine and we leave the bathroom. As we walk down the hall, she swings our joined hands between us. A lighthearted move that is wholly unexpected. I like it.
We can still hear the band from back here, and I stop her and pull her into my arms. “Dance with me?”
“Here? Now? To this song?”
The guys are finishing up with “Old Time Rock-n-Roll.” But I know what they plan to play next.
“No, this one,” I say just as we hear the opening strains of “We’ve Got Tonight.”
“Hey,” she says with a smile. “We danced to this before.”
“You remember?”
