Page 144 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
That’s better than wise guy.
Dollancie:
Okay, so Lucky will do for now.
And speaking of lucky, I’m pretty sure my friend and the guy she was flirting with are getting lucky in the bathroom. If I let you keep your mask on, do you wanna meet me on the dance floor for a dance?I’m kinda lonely out here. I won’t badger you about seeing your face. I promisssseeee.
Staring out over the bar,the last cupcake hidden safely behind the wine stash, I wonder, can I mask my limp if everyone is moving to the music? Can I keep my hands out of her line of sight so she won’t see my scars? And what the fuck can I put around my throat to hide a slit that goes from one side to the other?
I should say no.
I should keep my distance.
But I just can’t.
CHAPTER 34
Dollie—present day
Bodies bump into me, and the music gets louder. It’s almost too much for me—each word the singer voices fights for priority over the beat accompanying her.
The sound is too much, and a glance around reveals no pink eyes in sight. My shoulders slump with defeat, and it feels like being here is no longer worth the stress it brings.
I actually thought he’d come.
That he might want to see me as much as I want to see him.
But I’m still alone, and now I’m panicking on the dance floor as too many people get too close.
I step back into strong hands, and they grip my hips. One finds my hand and uses it to pull it over my head far enough for me to twirl beneath our joining.
Pink eyes, resembling two Xs, glow, and I wonder how well he can even see me.
Without saying anything, I place my hands on his shoulders as the upbeat song finishes and something more romantic starts.
He must be cold because his tattered tee is covered by a hoodie now. It looks like one I’d like to steal if only it were my color.
The floor gets a little quieter, giving us room to move around without stepping on the painted toes of the dozens of women still under the disco light.
I see very few of them because Lucky’s height and broad shoulders block out the room.
Made up little details flood my brain as I try to create a mental picture of Lucky beneath the mask.
I bet he has beautiful eyes.
Brown? No, he gives green eye vibes.
Is that even a thing, green eye vibes?
His lips, I bet they’re pouty and kissable.
I get lost for a moment, letting the music carry me away.
Lost in an image of him that isn’t even real.
But it’s been too long since I felt wanted, desired. I ache for it. For his hands to roam and grip and pull me closer.
As if hearing my thoughts, his hands hold me like he’s scared to let me go, but also scared to touch me. It makes me act so recklessly.
