Page 20 of 7+Us Makes Nine

“I have no idea what any of those are.”

I chuckled and shook my head as I finished off my drink.

“You really are a different kind of woman, Catherine.”

“No sense in being like everyone else,” she said. “Why be a carbon copy when I can be the original?”

Her hand draped over the arm of her chair in a nonchalant fashion. Her fingers were long and slender, and

they called to me. Made me want to reach out for her hand. I felt my heart slamming against my chest. I heard the blood rushing through my ears. I felt like I was back in high school, playing the pinky game with a girl in a movie theater. I took her glass from her and passed it off to a man standing in the corner, then the lights in the theater dimmed.

Just in time for the performance.

The music was spectacular, but all of it faded to the back of my mind. All I could think about was how close our hands were. The heat from her skin radiating against mine. So few words spoken between us still, and yet I was drawn to her. Pulled into her orbit and helpless to relieve myself of it. I reached my pinky out and knocked it against hers. A small motion to gauge what she would do. Such a teenaged game, and yet it was the only thing I could think to do.

The only thing I could think of that got me closer to her.

I expected her to pull away. To place her hands in her lap and clear her throat. But instead, she moved her pinky back out towards mine. The smallest gesture that opened up the whole of her to me. I looked down with my eyes, careful to not move my head. I didn’t want to startle her. I didn’t want her to flinch or make her feel like she’d done something wrong.

I didn’t want to spoil the moment.

I locked my finger around hers. Two pinkies tangled up in one another. The smallest connection that held the largest admission both of us wouldn’t speak of. I heard her draw in a deep breath. I felt her hand trembling. She was nervous. I was nervous.

Neither of us were paying attention to the show any longer.

With each song, our hands got closer. Our fingers intertwined. Our palms connected. Soon, my wrist was settled on top of hers and I could feel her pulse through my skin. The racing beat in time with my own as my heart thundered against my chest. I feared she could hear it. I was scared she could feel mine, too. Feel how nervous she made me. Feel how weak she made my knees.

I was a powerful man in this theater.

But in her grasp, I was helpless.

“I had a great time tonight. That show was incredible,” Catherine said.

I walked her up to the porch of my home, our fingers laced tightly together.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. And now you’ve experienced the theater.”

“Trust me, it’ll be something I save up to experience again soon.”

“Then make sure to tell your boss when you need the time off. If you play your cards right, he might even be willing to get you a discounted ticket.”

“Oh, a night off and perks. I like the sound of that,” she said.

There wasn’t a moon to be seen that night. The only thing reflected in her eyes were the twinkling stars above us. I gazed down into her beautiful face and watched the way her cheeks flushed. I unthreaded our fingers and brought my palm up to her face, my thumb stroking over her delicate cheek. Her eyes danced between mine as I closed the distance between our bodies.

“Catherine.”

“Yes, Jace?”

“You’re…”

Magnetizing. Vivacious. Wondrous. Glowing. Magnificent. Luscious. Beautiful.

Perfect.

Our lips were mere millimeters apart. I could feel her breath. I could almost taste the droplets up champagne still tainting her tongue. Her eyes fluttered closed. Mine mocked her movements.

Then I heard Michaela giggling from behind the door.

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