Page 30 of The Curve
“Really? No romantic dinners or New Year’s Eve celebrations?”
“I’ve never known romance. Pathetic as it may sound,” she says matter of fact like.
My heart sinks, but deep inside a spark flickers. I could be the one who shows it to her.
“I can change that,” I say.
Her lips press tightly together and her head dips. Then she looks up to me with those green pools of light. I bring her closer.
“You’ll see,” I whisper.
“You’ve been a good friend, Atticus. You don’t need to do anything else to earn my affection.”
“Please quit calling me your friend. Come on, lower your wall. Just for tonight. Please?”
I’ll take her silence for agreement. Toby can’t help falling in love and I’m not sure I can either. As the final note plays I keep ahold of her, and she looks into my eyes.
“Atticus!” Brick’s voice breaks the spell as he calls across the dance floor. There’s a smile on his face, so his date must have passed the test. I see him and his party taking their seats at our table.
“Come on, I want to introduce you to some people.”
Taking her hand, I lead Charlotte off the dance floor toward the cheerful group filling their champagne glasses.
“Ken! Hey brother, how you doin’?” I say throwing an arm around our old friend. “When you gonna move back to God’s country? We miss you and Janine.”
I get a warm hug in return. “Turns out baseball isn’t the only thing in the world.”
“This is Charlotte. Charlotte this is Ken Stoler and his wife Janine.”
* * *
“Let’ssit this one out. Do you mind?” I say as we sit close and alone at the table.
“Not a bit,” she says, unbuckling her shoes. “Think I’ll go barefoot for the rest of the night.”
“Here, put them here,” I say patting my lap.
Surprisingly she does, resting her delicate feet on my legs. I pull them higher and smile. Her heels rest right on my dick as I massage her smooth skin.
“I think I feel something in your pocket,” she giggles. “And it’s moving. What ya got in there? A python?”
She’s so fucking sexy.
“It’s a surprise. Want to see it?” I say.
Oh, that look. I’m not sure how much longer I can wait.
“Is it a good surprise or a naughty one?”
“It’s a good naughty one, just for Charlotte.”
I lift her heels and set them the ground. “Let’s go for a walk.”
There’s no argument from her. When I get up she does too. With every other person at our table on the dance floor no goodbyes are necessary. I make no eye contact with anyone as we leave the table, because I’ll be damned if I’m going to be stopped.
“This way,” I say taking her hand and leading her away. We wind through the tables, onto the cool lush manicured grass and toward the edge of the trees. All the lights growing dimmer as we move away.
“Are we going to stake a claim on a chaise?” she asks.
