Page 46 of Riding the Curve

Stepping out of his hold, I manage to turn in just enough time to shield my reaction to his words. I catch Harper’s nervous appearance as she tosses back my shot and hers, just as my brother slides into the booth next to her. A breathy laugh flies freely from my lips. At least I won’t be the only one trying to rein in my hormones tonight.

We all slide back into the booth while Melody pours us another round of shots and glasses of bourbon for the men. “I’ll take one of those, too, please,” Em drawls beside me.

With a wink, she slides our shots across the table. When he reaches for it, his thigh brushes against my exposed skin, sending a spark directly between my thighs. Squeezing them tightly together, I shoot up a prayer for strength. I’m going to need divine intervention to help me through this night.

With a salute, we toss back the shots.

“Taste’s exactly like something else I remember well.” The gravel in his voice has me melting into the leather cushions. Harper’s eyes glitter with mirth, her green eyes bouncing between the two of us.

All of a sudden the vibe of the bar shifts when Shania Twain sings through the speakers, “Let’s Go Girls.” A chorus of cheers and whistles fills the space as every woman in the bar flocks to the dance floor. Mel raises her arms in the air and shouts, “Three amigas, assemble!”

Her body bounces out of the booth. Ryleigh and Emerson chuckle, sliding out of the way to make room for Harper and me to join her on the dance floor. Relief washes through me. Any second longer in that booth and I might have combusted.

Emboldened by copious amounts of alcohol, I let loose, dancing like no one is watching. Swaying my hips back and forth and running my hands through my hair, I twirl around my friends.

It’s been so long since I’ve felt this unrestricted. Since I’ve felt free to be unapologetically me. There’s no one telling me what to wear or how to act. No one holding me back or stifling my aspirations. As I dance, I shed every one of those memories free on the floor.

Feeling a little dizzy, I excuse myself and make my way over to the bar for some water. Sweat beads down my forehead and neck, as the bartender slides across the glass. I take a long sip before raising the glass to my forehead, and letting the condensation cool my burning skin.

The upbeat song switches to one of my favorite songs, “Speechless.”

The slow melody draws me in, and I can’t help but sway to the beat. A warm palm lands on my shoulder, gently twisting me around. Ready to give someone a verbal lashing, I stall at the sight instead.

Emerson’s eyes lock with mine, fingertips sliding down the length of my arms and intertwining with mine. Without a word he lifts the cup out of my hands and sets it on the bar. Then he turns and guides me through the crowd of people to the middle of the dance floor. He lifts my arms around his neck and tremors ripple through me as his palms fall around my lower back, pulling me closer.

His heavy-lidded gaze is full of hunger, slowly roving over all of me as we sway back and forth. With each verse of the song, his fingers tighten their grip. Just like how he gripped my palm when he drove me onto his property, it’s full of desperation. Like he’s afraid that if he lets go, he’ll fall.

Slipping my palm into his hand, he surprises me by spinning me around in circles. Laughter spills out of me, the skirt of my dress flaring out around with each spin. When he pulls me back in, his arm holds me against his chest. The rapid beats of his heart thunder against my ear.

“You look stunning,” his deep voice rumbles from above. Leaning back, I catch his darkened eyes lower to mine. “The moment I spotted you across the room, you took my breath away.”

Swallowing deeply, the next words spill out roughly from between his lips. “You’re the only one that seems to have that effect on me.”

Each brush of his fingertips against the small of my back renders me breathless. The words I needed to say on the tip of my tongue. With a steadying breath, I cup my hand against his cheek, rubbing my fingers back and forth through the rough stubble on his chin.

“Em, you’ve always been the one who understands me completely. For years, I’ve been looking for a version of you in every person I’ve met, but no one has ever compared to the real thing.”

He inhales a sharp breath, his eyes searching my features. Looking for a hint of me faltering, but he won’t find any. Even on days when I didn’t want him to be, Emerson ran through my mind. It didn’t matter how long we’d been apart, he had embedded himself deep in my heart a long time ago.

Without another word, he closes the gap between us once more, tucking me into his chest. We sway back and forth as our steps become more languid, until all at once we are frozen in time. The other dancers on the floor fade away.

His gaze falls to my lips, and butterflies swirl inside my stomach. Suddenly, I feel like my eighteen-year-old self, yearning for him to lean in a little closer. To finally admit that he had feelings for me. Or the twenty-one-year-old standing in front of him, putting her heart on the line to ask him to kiss her. Begging him to leap into the unknown with her.

Brows scrunching inwards, he swallows deeply. Fear creeps through every inch of his expression. He’s afraid, but so am I. Afraid to let him in once more. Terrified to let down my shields.

But this time, something feels different. Like we are two magnets and no matter how far away from each other we are, we still feel the pull. Fate’s giving us another opportunity. I have to believe that life brought us together again for a reason. This time I’m not going to let him give up so easily. I need to fight a little harder, because this time I don’t think my heart can take another break.

As the song winds to a close, his grip around my hips loosens and he unhooks my arms from around his waist. They fall to my side as his fingers weave through the back of my hair and tighten around my scalp. Tender enough to not hurt me, but strong enough to keep me from moving.

“Em,” I plead, but he circles the pad of his thumb over my lips, silencing me once more.

My eyes flutter close, committing the feeling to memory, and unconsciously my palm reaches between us and fists his shirt. I feel him tense against me, and suddenly my lips grow cold and the fabric between my fingers disappears.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, his head hangs low. Avoiding my gaze from across the space he’s created between us. My feet shift forward, but he shakes his head and moves further out of my reach.

Pulling out his phone, he types a few words, then places it back into his pocket.

Glancing back at me one more time, a forced smile forms on his lips. “Thanks for the dance, Trouble.” Then, he turned around and walked out the bar.