Page 6 of In Your Dreams

When I came out of the bathroom in time to see him sliding across the dance floor in that tight white T-shirt and those worn jeans hugging his ass, a little spittle formed at the corner of my mouth. Yes, that’s right. I was in the early stages of drooling. I watched his hips pop and rotate and twist and there may have been a little sensation between my legs. And do you know how long it’s been since there’s been any sensation down there?!

Let’s just say it’s been so long that sometimes toweling myself off after a shower gets me halfway to the finish line. Do I give the old gal a few extra pats? Sure. But that’s not my fault. The deprivation is making me insane.

It was lucky for me no one saw me swiping at my mouth and I had enough time to collect my thoughts. My momma always told me that the way a man dances is the way he makes love. She used to say it when I was a teenager to get a rise out of me but she didn’t stop after that, which makes me think she was being serious.

There’s a conversation going on around me and I’m trying to keep up, but the cross talk is making it a little impossible. I want to retreat a bit, maybe go back to the ease of talking to Parker but I’m honestly afraid of what might happen.

The visceral reaction my body had to seeing him like that has cause me to stand here and reflect on the less than stellar intimate side of my marriage. Wayne was… dutiful. He tried. It all felt so obligatory in the end. And then end was abouta year before the actual proceedings of the divorce currently happening. A year. A friggin’. Year. That’s a long time. Doesn’t your virginity grow back after you’re dormant for that long? God, I hope not.

“I saw you talking to Parker over there,” Kelly Ann says as she digs her elbow into my side.

To be honest, I needed the elbow. I was deep into a rabbit hole of sex and need and thoughts of my towel.

“Yeah, what about it?” I ask. “I’ve been talking to everyone.”Oh my god. She saw the spittle on my mouth. She caught me staring at him. I’m ruined.

“He’s single, you know,” she says. “Has been for a long time.”

And that gives me pause. A long time? Why? My head can’t wrap around the idea that a well-muscled specimen with that yummy face and those sick dance moves who works with kids could possibly be single for longer than the time it takes for that information to traverse this very small town.

“Why?” I ask. Maybe I can keep myself from blurting out the rest of that internal thought but I must at least know why.

“It’s not for lack of trying on the part of the women who live here, that much I can tell you,” she says, turning her back to the rest of the talking semi-circle we’re standing in.

“Really?”

“From what I can tell, he could have his pick of them but nothing serious has ever risen out of the series of casual dates I’ve bore witness to,” she says.

“Wow, that surprises me,” I say honestly.

“You and me both,” she says. “He’s a great guy. Whoever finally lands him will be one lucky woman.”

I nod in agreement, unsure what to say. But she just keeps looking at me. “What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “I just thought since you’re single now, maybe there could be something there.”

“Oh my god,” I say. “I’m barely single. Like barely. Also I just moved back in with my parents at friggin’ thirty years old. I’m not exactly a catch.”

“Don’t say that,” she says, her tone turning a tad more serious. “Don’t belittle yourself like that.”

I inhale deeply, letting out a long sigh. “I just don’t think I’m at my best right now and I doubt anyone would be interested in me at this time because I’m still very raw.” I deliver the line knowing it’s intense, knowing it’s one of those very honest things you don’t confide to just anyone, hoping she understands.

She lifts her hand to cup my shoulder, giving me that slight head tilt that could be perceived as pity but I’ve known her long enough to know that’s not what she means.

I excuse myself from Kelly Ann and the group and walk toward the bar, realizing Wade is the only person I haven’t had a chance to talk to.

“Hey there, Poppyseed,” Wade says.

I roll my eyes at the term of endearment. Wade and Garret are the oldest of us, which means they have been known to treat us all like younger siblings from time to time. I spent a lot of time at his house growing up, since Emma was there a lot. Emma and Wade are actually much more like brother and sister than cousins. They grew up really close. So it was almost like I was his little sister too.

“Hey Wade,” I say. “How’s it going?”

“I don’t mean to sound like our parents but same shit, different day,” he says as he wipes down the bar between us.

“I wish I could say the same.” I laugh.

“Yeah, big changes for you, huh?” He asks.

I nod. “That’s the understatement of the year.”

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