Page 8 of The Things That Hold Us

The night goes on, shots are taken, and I actually end up enjoying myself.

It’s 2 in the morning, and a slow song comes on. Cassie is swept up by her man, Garrett, which I hadn't realized was here until just now. Nathaniel ran off with a guy who was wearing black eyeliner and has tattoos on his fingers.

Which leaves me.

Alone.

Like always.

I sway to the music, fully transfixed by the melody of it, when I feel strong hands pull me in.

“May I?” the man says.

I freeze. I know that voice.

“You.” I say, looking up and meeting his eyes. “From my shop. With the teapots.”

He smiles, “Me, with the teapots.” His eyes drop to my lips for a split second, and my entire body goes molten under his gaze. “May I dance with you?” he asks.

“Ok.” is all I say, then nod.

His arms pull me closer to him, and we start to sway. He doesn't say a word, his hands don't roam over my body. He just guides me with him, humming along to the song.

His scent floods my nose. God it’s intoxicating. Like musk, and amber, and something else I can't put my finger on.

“You smell really good.” I whisper into him.

I feel his entire chest rumble as he laughs, and I’m reminded just how big he is. I didn’t pay attention until now.

My arms won’t reach around his neck unless I were to stand on my tippy toes, and the alcohol is making that pretty difficult. But he doesn't seem to care. He holds me tight, not letting me stumble.

Finally, he says, “How drunk are you?”

I gasp and look up at him, “I am not drunk, sir. Just tipsy.”

He chuckles again. “You just told me I smelled good. I get the feeling sober you wouldn't say that outloud.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. You don't know that.”

“Fair enough.” he says.

We keep dancing, our bodies fitting together perfectly. I might be drunk, because this is really nice. My insides feel all warm and fuzzy.

I don't know if that's from the alcohol, or him.

After a minute, my head falls to his chest. I can hear his heartbeat, and it is extremely soothing. I feel him rest his chin on top of my head, and then his body relaxes into mine as the rest of the bar fades away.

What is his name? I know he told me, but right now I can't remember. I could ask, but I don’t want to mess this moment up.

This moment where a man is touching me, and I don't feel like completely breaking down.

This moment where I feel something besides grief and pain, but actually feel warmth.

I’m not messing this up, not while I have it. Because I know tomorrow when I wake up, it’ll be gone.

The song ends. And I feel disappointment wash over me. Just one more dance, that's all I need tonight.

He slows, and moves his head, looking down to meet my eyes. I feel his breath brush against my face, and I close my eyes, just taking in this moment.

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