Chapter Two #2
I start to move, but before I get too far, I stop myself. I can’t let my old instincts kick in. She isn’t mine to save. It is better for both of us if I stay here, where it is safe. It is easier this way.
Rachel stays there, in the middle of the floor. Her shoulders don’t move at all, not even when the song shifts. I expected her to walk back to her seat, but instead, it is like she is frozen there. Why isn’t she leaving?
Then I see her expression shift into something I refuse to watch.
“Fuck doing what is good for me.” I shoot back the rest of my drink and set my glass down on the bar. I push through the couples, eyes fixed on her. She doesn’t deserve to feel this. She shouldn’t have to feel abandoned by him, too.
When I stop in front of her, she looks up, eyes narrowing as they sweep over me.
I hold out my hand. “Looks like you saved me that dance.”
Her gaze drops to my hand. I see the flicker in her throat when she swallows. She shifts her weight, balancing on the balls of her feet, measuring me.
“You’ve really got some nerve,” she says, tone clipped.
“I do,” I say, keeping my eyes locked on hers. “But you always knew that.” Her hand hovers, trembling slightly before sliding into mine.
The moment her hand hits mine, I pull her in immediately, pressing her against me. My hand settles at her waist, fingers splayed across the small of her back. With her this close to me, I remember exactly why touching her was terrible idea.
I know I’m being reckless. I know I shouldn’t be this close to her, not when I know nothing between us has changed.
Every rational part of my mind is screaming to step back, to keep my hands to myself, to let her have this moment without me in it.
She should be free to be sad or lonely. She has every right to feel whatever she needs to feel on that dance floor without me complicating it. But I’m a weak man.
“You’re tense, Sunny. Try and relax.”
“I’m not tense.” She jerks her hand slightly from mine.
“You always were a terrible liar.”
“I haven’t seen you in four years. You’re practically a stranger, Rhett. Sorry if I’m a little out of my comfort zone.” Her words slice through the air, and she straightens her back.
I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face. She is still quick with that mouth.
“Is something funny to you?” she questions.
“No,” I say, teasing. “You’re just reminding me of Josh. You both pout the same way.”
I twirl around with her in my arms before she can respond, and I swear I see the corner of her mouth pull.
There are a thousand things I want to say to her. But I’m not sure any combination of words I could string together would be enough to make her forgive me. I guess I could start with the obvious.
“You look stunning tonight.” I let my thumb brush her hand.
“I know. Margo was nice enough to pick a dress that actually flatters her bridesmaids.” Venom laces her words.
“How nice of her to let you steal some of the attention.” We sway to the music. “I’m just making sure you heard it at least once tonight,” I say, glancing toward Ben, then back at her. “Didn’t want that big, beautiful mind of yours thinking you looked anything less.”
Her eyes flick to where Ben is, and I feel a jab of something I can’t quite name.
“Does he always leave you stranded like that?” I ask, keeping my eyes on her as we move together.
She stiffens, trying to put some space between us. “No. He’s just busy with work.”
“Must be pretty important work.” I pull her back closer to me. “It’s a real shame it keeps him from noticing the person he showed up with.”
I know I’m pushing it, but it is hard to watch her choose this. In all the years I’ve known Sunny, she’s never let anyone, let alone a man, walk over her. And here she is, entertaining someone like him.
“At least he’s here.” Her eyes narrow. “At least he has always been here.”
Her jab lands, and jealousy claws my chest. “I’m not trying to start a fight, Rach.”
“Try worrying about your own life then.”
I swallow. The words come out blunt, even though my chest constricts, attempting to warn me that I should be staying silent. “I don’t get why you’re getting so angry with me for giving you a compliment.”
“You know what you meant,” she fires back.
“Tell me, Sunny. What did I mean?”
“You don’t know him.” Her body flinches as she takes a step away from me. “The audacity you have right now to pick apart my relationship when I haven’t seen you in four years. You’re infuriating.”
My voice drops low, almost demanding. “You’ve never made excuses for poor behavior before. Why start now?”
Her jaw ticks, and her eyes flash with fury, but she lets out a careless laugh. “Why do you suddenly care?”
She swallows, eyes darting between mine. Uncertainty? Hurt? Anger? I can’t tell. She pulls her hand from mine, stepping away.
I watch her cross the floor. She keeps her shoulders squared, steps measured. She doesn’t look back at me. Every inch of her posture says she is proving something. I’m just not sure if it is to me or herself.
I may have to face the very real possibility of never having her in my life again.
Ben reaches the table when she does, phone still glued to his hand.
He doesn’t look up. Doesn’t greet her. His thumbs keep moving, attention already somewhere else.
Rachel lowers herself into the seat beside him and tries to lean in, laughing lightly at something he says.
It is a fake laugh, even I can tell Ben doesn’t have a sense of humor.
I watch as she tilts her head, placing a soft smile on her face, clearly trying to draw him in.
And I watch him barely notice.
She is radiant, playful, alive in a way that should demand notice. Yet he meets her with indifference. He tolerates her.
I don’t know what story he sold her or what version of himself she believes in. Either way, I’m not sure care.
Part of me wants to warn him, to make sure he understands what he is about to lose. But I’m not that nice.
Besides, we both know she was never his to keep anyway.