“And though this might bruise your delicate feelings, she’s way prettier than you.”
Marcus spread out his hands. “I’m not going to argue that one, but we’ll see about the dancing.”
They moved to the floor. It wasn’t hard to carve out a space for themselves as people adjusted to allow Rory room for him and his partner.
Ceelo Green’s “Bright Lights and Big City” was the perfect tempo for the different combinations of steps she and Rory had worked on. Despite that and her more optimistic thoughts at the table, the reality of so many people around them, the inevitable attention they were drawing, had her shrinking a little inside. Though she tried not to show it on the outside, Rory put pressure on her hand and pulled her down to him. Cupping her face to draw her eyes to his, he brushed his lips over her mouth.
“You look so beautiful,” he said softly, and the heat in his eyes, his voice, told her how much he meant it. “You remember what I told you we’re going to do when we get home tonight? You think about that. Show me how you’ll move for me when your hand is between your legs.”
At her flush, a devilish glint came to his gaze. She thought about smacking him, a startling thought, and then he grinned, as if the reaction had shown on her face.
He shifted his grip to one familiar to her from their lessons, and waited a beat to make sure she knew what he was about to do. Her nod confirmed it. He yanked, and she executed the turn into his lap, pushing off with her leg so she gave the chair the momentum for the spin he put it in. The turn ended with her reaching out with the opposite leg, and pushing herself back out of his lap, onto her feet and spinning out once more. At the full reach of their arms, the strength in his grip was enough to let her lean outward at an angle, like grass blown from a strong breeze, her free arm outstretched. Then he did another yank, spinning her back into the wrap of his arm, her hip against his side.
Exclamations of surprise and a burst of applause made him grin, and she found herself smiling back. He settled them into simpler steps, the ball changes, spins, turns and wheelies that were less showy, merely about enjoying the dancing together. A glimpse toward Thomas and Marcus showed they were doing the same. Despite the teasing at the table, they wouldn’t be doing anything to take the shine away from Rory tonight. Not that she thought that would have mattered to him. His attention was entirely on her, and he looked…happy.
When his tension about the lack of stage access had disappeared, she thought she knew why. Such things could still give him a momentary hitch, but he was past it. He’d become comfortable in his skin, in who he was. What he wanted, and what mattered.
What would it be like to reach that point? She had never believed it would be on her horizon, let alone within reaching distance. But she wanted him, wanted to be part of what made him happy, now and forever. She wanted to learn how to dance even more complicated dances with him, learn to trust his lead. Most of all, she wanted to break out of the prison that kept her from telling him everything she wanted with her own lips, her own words.
Tonight, she believed that eventually she would. She thought of the words he’d said up on the stage. Most of them had been for his parents, but that one part had been a straight arrow, fired right to her soul.
He was never going to give up on her. Never. She thought she could believe it, and though that belief might only hold through tonight, it was an important start, a foothold toward a more enduring belief and trust.
As Marguerite had said, for this moment, it was enough.
“Cake by the Ocean” by DNCE was next. Amanda, Johnny, Brick and other friends had closed in on their position. Couples broke apart so they were dancing as a group. Amanda bounced up to her and they were bumping hips, turning and moving to the rhythm. She showed Daralyn some other steps. Daralyn didn’t even mind when Rory took Amanda’s offered hand and put her into a spin.
Daralyn did a couple steps with Johnny, though Johnny didn’t put his