Chapter 16 Dove #2
Because, no, Ellis Langley was here to wake me up.
And I now considered my eyes wide open.
The second we slipped out of the bathrooms and approached our table, we found Jules waving the trivia sheet above her head like a flag, while Siena clapped beside her, blonde hair catching under the neon light as if it had been placed there as her own personal spotlight.
“You guys missed it!” Jules crowed with a grin, her eyes landing on Ellis. “We won!”
“You guys crushed it,” I said lightly, grinning at both of them. “You can keep the prize for yourselves. The bar tab. We’re not drinking, and we’ll be leaving soon.”
Siena’s eyes widened a fraction, some of the sparkle dimming. “Aw, you’re leaving already?” she asked softly, lips pouted. “Come on then, have a dance with me, gorgeous.”
It was as if I could feel Ellis bristle beside me—feel it inside me—and it felt sharp and layered, heavy in my stomach. I glanced at her, noting her drawn lips and tight eyes.
I glanced back at Siena.
“Thank you, but I promised Ellis my only dance tonight.” My words were warm, friendly, and I found my hand moving automatically, reaching back and touching Ellis’s elbow gently. “Didn’t I?”
The resigned huff that left Ellis’s lips had my own lips tugging into a smirk before I could stop myself.
“One dance,” she muttered.
“One dance,” I echoed, but my heart suddenly felt as if it were beating loud enough for the room to hear over the rising music. I spied Liv on the dance floor, a flash of pink hair appearing and then vanishing into the growing number of bodies.
I looked to Jules and Siena.
“It was great meeting you both,” I told them with a grin. “Enjoy the bar tab.”
Gently, I tugged Ellis toward the dance floor, breaking through her small fight of resistance, the look on her face letting me know very clearly that she was already regretting every life choice that had ever led her here.
Siena and Jules laughed behind us and called something playful out, but I barely registered it.
The blood was roaring in my ears.
The dance floor wasn’t overly crowded, but it was still bustling with moving bodies as some fast-tempo song played, and I grimaced inwardly. This song was in no way going to get Ellis relaxed and dancing—it just wouldn’t do—
The music cut and shifted, and a new song started. And I knew it within the first couple of chords.
“Fade Into You” by Mazzy Star.
I looked up to the DJ booth where I saw Liv standing beside a confused-looking DJ, a smirk on her face as she shot me a wink and a thumbs-up, nodding her head at Ellis.
I looked back at Ellis, who was staring at her feet. She likely hadn’t even seen Liv up there.
My breath caught in my chest, and I swallowed the rising lump of nerves in my throat before I held out my hands in front of her.
“C’mere,” I murmured softly, praying she couldn’t see the slight tremor in them.
Ellis shifted on her feet, tugging at the sleeve of her sweater and biting her delicate pink lip in a way that made me jealous.
“I—I don’t know how to dance, Dove,” she mumbled, cheeks red again.
I let my own confident grin spread across my face, praying it was convincing. “You just sway with me, Ellis.” I noted a few people had already begun dancing, pairing off with whoever they’d come onto the floor with, and I gestured around us. “See?”
Her green eyes shifted nervously around us, wide and uncertain, and I gave her no further time to waste on thought, or for me to um and ah over how to break the distance.
I took one of her hands and rested it on my shoulder, fitting her other hand clumsily into my own.
A small gasp of air left her lips when I set my other hand at her waist, drawing her closer until we were chest to chest. For a beat, neither of us moved, and it felt like neither of us dared to breathe.
I felt too aware of her, of everything. The warmth of her skin where her palm curled against mine, the faint smell of her shampoo wafting up my nose, the way she felt both strong and delicate under my touch.
She let out a shaky, almost inaudible breath, her fingers twitching ever so slightly on my shoulder.
I swallowed and moved us slightly, drawing her into the sway as we seemed to dissolve into the crowd of other swaying dancers, the confusion over the abrupt change in music quickly forgotten.
Over the top of Ellis’s head, I saw Liv slow dancing with herself on the DJ booth and had to resist the urge to snort a laugh.
“I don’t think I’m very good at this,” Ellis mumbled, her voice so faint I nearly missed it. “I can’t do this.”
“You already are,” I murmured, squeezing her hand softly. “See? A night out isn’t so bad, right?”
Her lips tugged into a small smile, and she looked at me cautiously. “It’s not the worst thing in the world,” she relented.
“Coming from you, that’s a five-star compliment,” I said, smirking.
She let out a hitched-sounding laugh, and just for one tiny second, her fingers tightened on mine. I allowed my delusions to run wild, to let myself believe she was holding on just long enough to know what it felt like, how it felt to let go and maybe let someone in.
There was a pulse of something unseen between us, and whether or not she felt it was unknown to me, but it was like a pull I could feel but not touch. It made me hyperaware of every inch between us, every light catch of her breath, and the thousands of flickering emotions in her eyes.
This wasn’t just attraction or tension.
It felt more tangible than that. More right.
Ellis Langley had gone and gotten herself under my skin, and I found myself having zero desire to see her removed.
“I’m going up to the roof,” Liv announced just as Ellis placed the final pillow in her wall down the center of the bed, her face determined as she observed it. “You both snore, and I can’t sit there listening to it all night.”
I raised a brow at her and watched as she shot me a wink before floating straight up through the ceiling like something out of a movie. I wrinkled my nose, then turned back to the bed, finding Ellis already climbing in on her side and flicking off her lamp.
I bit my lip, trying to hold back my smirk, as I climbed into my own side and adjusted myself under the sheets, doing my best not to disturb the pillows as I leaned over and flicked off my own lamp.
The room was cast into darkness, save for the faint orange glow of light that crept in through the thin motel curtains. I let my eyes trace the lines on the ceiling, listening to the muffled sounds of cars passing outside, the slamming of other motel room doors, and Ellis’s soft breaths beside me.
So close, but so far away.
The room suddenly felt too big and too small all at once.
“You know,” I whispered into the dark, a smirk spreading across my face, unable to help myself. I had to point out the elephant in the room. “We didn’t have a pillow wall last time.”
There was a pause on Ellis’s side of the wall before she spoke, quiet and wry.
“Well, you kick in your sleep,” she said. “The wall should take the brunt of it.”
I snorted softly and put my arms back under my head. “Such a lie, Ellis.”
A small, weak, and reluctant laugh left her, and it had something warm twisting in my chest.
“Tonight was… something,” Ellis murmured, a low yawn leaving her. “I’m not sure if I struggle with people because I didn’t have much time around them… or if I just don’t enjoy the same things people my age are supposed to.”
I blinked into the dark.
“Well, what do you enjoy?” I asked, curiosity filling me. Had I ever asked before?
I felt her shift on her side before she spoke.
“I like the movies,” she whispered. “I like sitting in that huge dark room with a giant screen and surround sound, where all you focus on for an hour and a half is a story. I like buttery popcorn and cola. Going to the movies is one of my favorite things to do.”
“So you enjoyed the drive-in, then?” I asked.
“I did,” she murmured. “Not—not to the same effect, but it was still good.”
“What else?” I asked, after a beat had passed.
“Museums,” she said softly. “I love museums. I love reading the backstories to people or places. The history of why things happened and what led to that moment.” She was quiet for a moment, then went on.
“I like mini golf. Pottery classes, but I’m not very good, and I only did it once.
I really enjoyed it, but I destroyed someone’s clay pot and never went back. ”
I snorted a laugh.
“I like things that don’t… I guess don’t overstimulate me or demand too much.”
“So, bars… parties…” I trailed off, grinning.
“I could live without them,” she said decidedly. “But at least now I know… I mean, I gave it a go.”
“You did.”
“I’m good at trivia, though,” she murmured smugly. “We won.”
The quiet once more settled in the room, and I found myself rolling onto my side, facing the pillow wall, allowing one finger to absently trace along the front of the closest pillow.
The coarseness of the fabric sat beneath the pad of my finger.
I heard the sounds of someone using the vending machine outside, and I frowned.
“Hey, Dove?” Ellis’s voice broke past the noise.
“Yeah?”
“What’s it… what’s it like?” she began nervously. “Being… you know… a psychic.”
I smirked again, unable to help myself. “Thought you didn’t believe in it.”
She huffed on the other side of the wall.
I gave her a break.
“Look, honestly,” I began, feeling a weakness in my voice, “I thought it skipped me. I—I never really felt or had what Margaret talked about. I mean, I grew up around it, and I understand the cards and how they work and what they mean and, you know, the lore, but I didn’t feel like I had…
whatever you’re meant to have. But for some reason, Margaret thought I did. ”
A low exhale left me, and I tapped the pillow once with a frown.