Page 5 of The One I Need
“I mean, I could,” I say. “But would that be any fun, crashing a wedding of someone you know?”
“True,” he says. “You never answered my question from earlier.”
I take a sip and sloppily wipe the remnants away with the back of my hand. “Which question? Because if it’s the one about me marrying you, I think you should know your answer by now.”
He chuckles under his breath. “Not that one. The question about if you knew the bride or groom?”
“Oh,” I say, realizing through the bottles of champagne, and multiple, multiple shots of whiskey, that neither of us have shared much detail about each other. I usually do that by design. Tonight it’s just been because our conversation has flowed from the second we met. “Hazel, one of the bridesmaids, is my best friend. She’s also my boss. I met Whitley and Jake through her when we moved here from California.”
“Ah yes, the billionaire dating app mogul who snagged our favorite local mechanic,” Oliver says knowingly.
“That’s the one,” I say as I stand up. Well, I try. The second my butt leaves the seat, I start stumbling, nearly falling over myself. Somehow, even though Oliver is just as drunk as I am, he stands and catches me. I fall into him, and my hands grip his forearms for balance.
Holy shit… I didn’t know you could feel veins in forearms.
I knew Oliver was likely one of those sneaky built types. The guys who never skip the gym but their bodies are discreet about it.
I love it when I’m right.
“Sorry,” I say, trying to right myself.
“No need to apologize,” he says. We stare at each other for a few seconds. At least, I think it’s only a few seconds. I have no concept of time right now. Between Oliver’s voice, his closeness, and the cologne I’m now breathing in, I can’t think straight. It’s probably how I don’t realize that I’m slowly starting to sway to the love song that is currently playing.
“I thought you said you didn’t like to dance?”
I slide my hands from up his biceps and across his shoulders before my hands are looped around his neck. Oliver follows suit, gently placing his hands at the small of my back.
“No.” I shake my head as he starts slowly moving with me to the words of the song. “I said I don’t dance. I never said I didn’t like to dance.”
“Is there a difference?”
If this were any other person, I’d deflect. I’d change the subject for fear of letting one single iota of vulnerability slip out. That’s what I do. And it has always served me well. But when I look up at Oliver, for some reason I can’t pull that bullshit. His hazel eyes are looking at me with such sincerity I don’t think I could actually lie to him.
Or maybe it’s the champagne. Either way, my defenses are as down as maybe they’ve ever been.
“I don’t like dancing in front of people,” I whisper as I look down, unable to look Oliver in the eye right now. “I hate feeling like everyone in the room is staring at me.”
Fuck, I just said that, didn’t I? I’ve never said that out loud before. Not in thirteen years.
I begin to pull away, because I can’t bear to look at Oliver right now. Stupid champagne making me all vulnerable and shit. But just as I’m about to step back, Oliver’s grip stops me and pulls me closer. His fingers gently touch my chin, lifting it up so I have to look him in the eye.
“It’s just me,” he says, “just you and me.”
We start dancing again, though I can’t tell what song is playing. All I know is that I don’t know the last time I felt like this. I can’t even pinpoint the exact feeling. And it only has a little something to do with the firm expanse of his chest under my chin as we sway to a beat all our own. I haven’t felt this good, or free, in a very long time. Between the alcohol, the laughter, the conversation, and, well, Oliver, I don’t know what could make this night better.
“Izzy?”
That. Oliver whispering my name in my ear in his perfect baritone is what makes this night better.
“Yeah?”
“Want to get out of here?”
And have Oliver whisper more things into my ear? Preferably while we’re naked? Hell yes. Perfect night.
“Your place or mine?”
His eyes go from kind to heated in an instant.
