Chapter 15 Dancing With The Best Man
Dancing With The Best Man
Tasha
Seb paid him to stop. No one could pay him to change decades.
“Mind if I steal Tasha for a dance?” Seb interrupts girl time, breaking into the circle of fempower as Jess, Lyssa and I shake it like we’re eighteen again.
“Only if you promise to return her eventually,” Lyssa says.
“No promises.” He tugs me out of my chair and toward the dance floor, where approximately three other couples are swaying to the next song, “Endless Love.”
“This song is terrible,” I say as he pulls me close.
“The worst.” His hand settles on my lower back. “Dance with me anyway?”
“I guess I could suffer through one dance.”
“Just one?”
“Maybe two.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
We sway together, and I let myself relax into him. His cologne, his warmth, the steady beat of his heart under my palm.
“Your friends were staring at us,” he murmurs against my hair.
“They’re trying to figure out if you’re a good kisser.”
“And?”
“I told them you were adequate.”
He pulls back to look at me, eyebrows raised. “Adequate?”
“Didn’t want to oversell it.”
“Tasha Forrest, are you saying I need more practice?”
“I’m saying there’s always room for improvement.”
His eyes darken. “Challenge accepted.”
He spins me out and back in, and I laugh loud and genuine, and not caring who hears.
When the song ends, another immediately begins. And another. We stay on the dance floor through all of them, trading terrible jokes and stolen kisses and quiet promises.
At some point, Hunter and Olivia join us. Then Jess drags Elena out. Then Lyssa shows up with one of Connor’s cousins.
We’re all dancing and laughing when Connor and Finley at the edge of the dance floor.
The band switches to something slow and romantic. We all step back to give them space, but Seb keeps his arm around my waist.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
I watch Connor spin Finley, watch them smile at each other like they’re the only two people in the world.
“Yeah,” I say, and mean it. “I’m more than okay.”
“Good.” He kisses my temple. “Because I have plans for later that require you to be very okay.”
“Oh really?”
“Mmhmm. Plans that involve you, me, and significantly fewer clothes.”
“Sebastian Castillo, are you propositioning me at my ex’s wedding?”
“Is it working?”
I turn in his arms, rising on my toes to whisper in his ear: “Yes.”
His grip tightens. “How much longer do we have to stay?”
“We can’t leave yet. I’m the maid of honor.”
“What are the duties of a maid of honor during the reception?”
“Dancing with the best man, apparently.”
“Then I’m fulfilling my duties admirably.”
“So humble.”
“One of my best qualities.”
I laugh and rest my head on his chest. The music plays. The ocean crashes. The stars come out.
And for the first time in two years, I’m not thinking about what I lost.
I’m thinking about what I found.
We make it another hour before sneaking away.
Well, sneaking, is generous. We try to be subtle, but Lyssa shouts, “Use protection!” as we’re leaving, and half the reception turns to stare.
I’m mortified. Seb just waves.
“Your friends are a nightmare,” he says once we’re out of earshot.
“Your friends placed bets on when we’d leave.”
“Did they?”
“Pete owes Caleb fifty bucks. They thought we’d make it to cake.”
“We could go back for cake.”
I stop walking and turn to face him. The reception is behind us, music and laughter floating on the breeze. Ahead is the path to the bungalows, dark and quiet and promising.
“Or,” I say slowly, “we could skip cake.”
“I like the way you think.” He sweeps me up into his arms, and I yelp.
“Seb! Put me down!”
“Not a chance.” He starts walking. “I’m carrying my girlfriend back to her bungalow, and you can’t stop me.”
“Girlfriend?”
He pauses, looking down at me with sudden uncertainty. “Is that...are we...I mean, if you want to be?”
I kiss him to shut him up. “Yes, you ridiculous man. I want to be your girlfriend.”
The smile he gives me could power the entire resort. “Good. Because I have opinions about boyfriend duties that I’m very eager to fulfil.”
“Oh really?”
“Very important duties. Time-sensitive duties. Duties that require immediate attention.”
I’m laughing as he carries me up the steps to my bungalow, as he kicks the door shut behind us, as we fall together onto the bed.
“Seb?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For chasing me. For catching me. For making me believe in this again.”
He brushes my hair back, his touch gentle. “Tasha, loving you isn’t something I do. It’s who I am. You don’t have to thank me for being exactly where I want to be.”
“Still. Thank you.”
He kisses me softly. “You’re welcome. Now, about those boyfriend duties...”
I laugh and pull him down to me, and somewhere in the distance, I hear the band playing and people cheering and the ocean whispering against the shore.
But all I care about is here.
In this moment.
Trapped at my cousin’s wedding, with this man.
Finally, blessedly, completely happy.