Chapter 6 Savannah
Savannah
From the corner of the ballroom, I watched Jesse and Darcy spinning around, a rehearsed dance Jesse had insisted they learn.
My heart twisted in a way I couldn’t name, but the sensation had only grown stronger over the past four years.
It wasn’t jealousy. Not really. I loved them both, and all the more together.
They deserved this beautiful wedding with their families around them.
The choreographed dance and the canapes.
But there was something in the ease of his hand on her hip, the comfort in her gaze on him, the laugh she let out as he twirled her away and then back into him. Familiar, warm, right. It all pricked something tender inside me.
I’d never felt that comfortable in Bryce’s arms or Cal’s. Certainly not with the few poor choices better after tequila shots and in the dim light, men, and dear lord, was that the breadth of my romantic history? Two boyfriends, a summer fling in high school, and a whopping three one-night stands?
You can’t forget about those other kisses, though...
No, I wouldn’t go there. Not when he was looking so good tonight in the all-white tux Darcy had the groomsmen wearing.
Not when his hair had grown out, messy over his forehead, his arms somehow firmer, and those hands.
It didn’t take much for me to recall exactly how they’d felt on my hips.
In my hair, those fingers splayed over my stomach in the early morning in the tent.
All those stolen moments, I’d tried and failed to write off as nothing.
Only with Knightly did I have this comfort, the world falling away around us. But I was far too pragmatic to think I could have more.
“Rescue me.”
My head snapped to the side, and I found Knightly leaning down close to me, his mouth inches from my ear. Heat flamed under my skin at his nearness, and I took a steadying sip of my champagne to cool myself.
“I forgot the gift that Jesse bought Darcy in my room. He needs it before they take off, and I’m on Aunt Sharon duty until Uncle Bill gets back from his sneaky trip to the bar.”
“You need me to get it for you?”
He grinned, slipping his room key into my hand. “It’s the little blue box beside the TV. You’re the best, Bana.”
“I’m something alright,” I mumbled, picking up the front of my violet-satin maid of honor dress so that I didn’t trip.
The heels I’d worn during alterations had turned out to be medieval torture devices, and I’d switched them out for more sensible and far lower ones for the reception.
But I had been tripping over my hem since.
His hotel room was one floor down from mine, but identical in every way.
There was even the same painted landscape over the king-size bed, the comforter pulled up over the pillows haphazardly.
On the chair in the corner, the T-shirt he’d been wearing earlier was folded over the back.
My eyes darting to the door as if I would be caught, I grabbed the shirt, pulling it to my face to breathe in a lungful of his scent—woodsy, clean, sunshine.
Fisting it in my hand, I closed my eyes, imagining the way he’d peeled it off earlier.
Had he grabbed the back collar with one hand, pulling it over his head?
Or had he gripped the hem lower, exposing each inch of that flat stomach?
I had seen him shirtless countless times: swimming at the lake, camping in the summer, and hot-tubbing in the winter.
After years of seeing each other in close to nothing, his bare chest wasn’t new or mysterious to me.
But that didn’t mean the idea of watching him take off a shirt didn’t make something clench inside me.
Stupid. Foolish and just plain dumb. I dropped the tee as if it were burning me. That Champagne must be going straight to my head to have me acting like this. With the little box tucked in my clutch beside his room key, I made my way out the door and back down to the ballroom.
It took me a few minutes, but I found Knightly as he was bickering with Jesse’s cousin, Danica, about which run on Stevens Pass was the best.
“No, I’m telling you, Skyline is the way to go.”
Danica snorted, her long, dark box braids twisted over one shoulder, exposing her delicate neck. My own felt very thick suddenly. “Skyline? You might as well be on the daisy trail on that one.”
“Says the girl who prefers Big Chief?” Knightly’s gaze gleamed with that all-too-familiar mischief he only had when talking to a beautiful woman.
Taking the glass of water from his hand, I took a calming sip, the ice cubes hitting my teeth and numbing my tongue.
Knightly’s lips had been warm, his sunshine on his skin and the heat of it in his fingers. The glass was slippery in my hand as I watched him flirting with another girl who wasn’t me.
“Don’t knock it.” Danica laughed, a sweet sound. I hated it. “But that’s just on the regular runs. The real fun is riding backside.”
“I’d love to try it with you.” He leaned forward, that golden smile, chipped tooth, flirt. “You’re in Cheney, right? We could meet halfway.”
“We’ll see.” She raised an arched brow before furrowing it. “Aw, crap. My gran keeps asking every guy in a bowtie for a drink, thinking they’re servers. I’ve got to go rescue another guest.”
Knightly watched as Danica walked away, a small smile playing on his lips. I wanted to stomp on his toes. Instead, I held out the box, stepping closer. “She’s pretty.”
“Who? Danica? Oh, yeah, isn’t she?” He grinned, turning his eyes back on me, and I had to swallow down the lump forming in my chest.
I hummed into the stolen glass of water, chewing on the last of the cubes, letting the sting of his disinterest melt on my tongue.
“You’re dancing with me.” Without asking, he took the empty glass from my hand, setting it suddenly on a side table, and then he was leading me out onto the floor beside his grandparents, little kids, and the bride and groom, who were currently making out in the middle of it all.
Despite myself, I allowed him to wrap his hand in mine, to pull me closer.
“What happened to Kylie? I expected to see her here.” I glanced across the room at the other dancing couples, kicking myself for asking about his girlfriend of three months. Pretty Kylie. Smart Kylie. Kylie with the cool ripped T-shirts of bands she had seen live before they’d made it big.
“We broke up.”
“You—what?” I tried to form words but fell short.
“She wasn’t right.”
I snorted. “That’s what you always say.”
He shrugged, the motion bringing our joined hands up together. “Well, none of them have been.”
“Aren’t you picky? You know, this playboy thing is only cute for so long. You’re going to have to find someone eventually, don’t you think?”
“What if I already have?” His golden eyes bored into mine, and a spark lit in my chest, the tinder of hope. But no, he couldn’t mean it.
“Oh?”
“Savannah.” The word was a breath, a whisper, the sweetest temptation.
My real name, not the nickname, not the joke.
He had only called me that one other time, and it was when he’d turned me down.
“You look beautiful, you know that?” His warm fingers drew a line down my bare back, fire lancing on my skin at every pass.
I swallowed down the burgeoning hope in my chest. It meant nothing. Pasting on my blandest smile, I look up at him. “And you look very dashing in your tux.”
Knightly let out a soft chuckle, ducking his chin down as he shook his head. His hand clasped over mine, and we swayed almost in time to the music. “I look like a waiter. But Darcy insisted.”
My hand trembled in his, and he had to shift his fingers to adjust. I parted my lips, my tongue thick and useless in my mouth before I squeaked out, “You’re a good brother.”
Something in his gaze softened, and he didn’t respond right away, his eyes darting over my hair, my eyes, my mouth.
Then he was spinning me, the room blurring around us.
I caught sight of Darcy across the dance floor, and she shot me a thumbs-up over Jesse’s shoulder.
It all happened so quickly, I couldn’t quite fathom the meaning before he was pulling me back into his arms, our steps falling into sync with each other’s.
The tempo of the music, or was it my heartbeat, pounded over my skin.
Knightly started, “And you’re a good friend—”
Friend. Right.
“—the best, really. I know life has gotten crazy after we all graduated, with you in grad school and me starting my new job, but I miss you.” He tilted his head to the side, catching my gaze. We still saw each other all the time. Weekly at least, but I knew—how I knew—what he meant.
For longer than I cared to admit, I’d wanted to hear that sentiment, but instead of melting something inside me, I felt a hollow.
What did he mean? Why was it always these empty, beautiful words and never more?
For years, he had carved out this Knightly-shaped hole inside me, and someday he would be gone.
It didn’t have to be cool Kylie. But it would be someone.
I shook my head. “You can’t flirt and call me beautiful, dance with me, and say we’re friends. Not anymore.”
His fingers tightened on the silk fabric at my waist, bunching against his palm. We weren’t dancing anymore. Just standing in the middle of the floor and staring at each other.
“Why not?”
I closed my eyes, my head shaking from side to side. A curl escaped my updo, falling over my brow and landing above my collarbone, tickling the bare skin there. Knightly reached out, wrapping the tendril around his finger before tucking it back, his thumb brushing against the side of my throat.
It was too much. All I could feel was him; all I wanted was more. And I was his friend. Squinching my eyes shut, I told myself not to cry, but when I snapped them open, they were filled with tears.
If I told him and he rejected me, if I opened myself up one more time to be made a fool of? No, part of him would always be better than nothing at all.
“I can’t tell you. I can’t. If you...” I pulled away, shaking my head. “I’m sorry,” I struggled out before turning on my heel and running through the crowd.