a close, but neither of us pulls away.
We stay there, deep in each other’s eyes and arms, swaying to the next song as it starts up.
I don’t recognize it immediately, but as the band transitions from the intro into the real meat of the music, the irony couldn’t be any clearer.
Ella Fitzgerald’s “Aren’t You Kind of Glad We Did?” confirms my decision to live in the moment.
If I don’t use what I have when the opportunity is presented, will I ever really use it at all?
My heart picks up speed as Cap’s smile grows. Whether it’s pure intuition or my body language or some type of psychic gift, he can see the change in me. I’m sure of it.
Our bodies mold to each other as he spins me quickly to a new spot on the dance floor, and the way it makes my stomach feel puts a smile on my face.
His smile this close up is a whole new animal—more powerful and influential and, perhaps, unstoppable.
I could melt into the feel of it, get lost in the complexities—spend my life trying to crack its code.
I can feel the heat of his breath on my lips, and I’m not ashamed to say I run my tongue along them in the hope I can taste it.
Whiskey flares as Cap’s eyes lock on to the movement, and it’s all I can do to stop a full-body chill from overwhelming my frame.
One second bleeds into the next, and time slows down. I can see every minute movement as Cap’s perfectly plush mouth comes toward mine—can feel every breath exchanged between us—and I do nothing to stop it.
Live in the moment, take things as they come, stop cockblocking my own goddamn life. I’m determined to have this moment, no matter the consequences.
My heart thunders in my chest, a wild animal contained in a cage of flesh and bone and purpose. It can’t run from me—it can’t run from this.
Fingertips flex into the thin fabric at my hips, and I swear I nearly faint as Cap’s lips hover just above mine.
My eyelids fall in a languid blink, a fraction of a second expanded into a faux minute of time. A lip grazes mine, just a hint of contact with the potency of a million pounds of pressure.
It’s more than I’ve ever imagined a kiss could be, and it hasn’t even started yet.
Dear God, I’m in so much troub—
“Ow,” I groan as a huge force at my back slams me into the hard wall of Cap’s body and bumps our chins and teeth together.
Cap winces too, rubbing at his face with a hand and steadying me at the hip with the other.
I turn to find the offending object, just as it—he—turns to glare at me.
And the resemblance is startling. Familiar light-brown eyes, only a few more wrinkles in their creases. The same hair, only peppered with white and gray. The same strong jaw. Even the same nothing-but-trouble smirk appears on his lips when recognition takes over his face.
Fast-forward twenty or thirty years, and I imagine this is exactly what Caplin Hawkins will look like.
“Dad,” Cap confirms from behind me, reaching over a shoulder to take what is apparently Jared Hawkins’s hand. “Happy birthday.”
Jared smiles then, our collision and the complexities of who might be at fault forgotten, and pulls the woman in his arms forward.
She’s beautiful. And I mean that vividly. Long golden hair, high cheekbones, and full, luscious lips, she has the features of a much younger woman.
It’s only in the tiny, superficial lines around her eyes that her age shows at all.
“Mother,” Caplin greets then, and my body jolts with past embarrassment. For the sake of all involved, though, I do my best to lock it down. There’s absolutely no way I can go into the details of that mortifying phone call without making a scene.
“Caplin,” she says back and pushes past me to place air kisses on both of his cheeks.
As soon as she steps back, Cap jostles me back into place, but the spell is broken. Now that his body isn’t warming mine, I remember what a bad idea all of it really is.
As much as I wanted that kiss, as much as I still want to feel his lips on mine, it’s probably a good thing it didn’t happen.
But the ghost of his touch fires an aftershock on my lips, and I have to lift a hand to them to stop the burn.
Okay. So, I guess it’s a good thing it only