Life In Reverse(92)

Conversation flows and laughter ensues, but I can barely concentrate on anything except Vance’s proximity. He’s dragged his chair closer, our shoulders practically touching now. The smell of sweat and soap, and everything I’ve missed about him bleeds into my space, and I find myself breathing him in until it makes me dizzy. Every now and then I can feel him watching me, his gaze warming the side of my cheek. It makes me want to lean into him, bury my head in that spot between his neck and his shoulder.

“Dance with me,” he murmurs against my ear, making me shiver. The reality that we’re here together sinking in.

“But you don’t dance,” I whisper back, teasing.

“For you, I’ll f*cking dance.” He growls words that are full of fire, disarming me until I’m a puddle at his feet. Three years of hidden longing surfaces and I get up from the chair, taking his hand. I stare at the way our palms slide together, fingers entwined, remembering the first time he took my hand and held it. A smile explodes on my face as he leads me to the almost nonexistent dance floor. We’re Forgiven by The Calling plays through the speakers.

Our gazes collide and he has that same smile in his eyes that I’m wearing on my lips. Strong arms slip around my waist, my hands gliding up the rigid planes of his stomach to drape around his neck. My head rests against his firm chest, his heart beating steadily under my cheek. His scent and the warmth of his body engulfs me. I close my eyes and try to breathe, keenly aware of all the places we’re touching, of how connected we are. Even after all these years, we still fit like two pieces of a puzzle. Nothing feels forced about the way our bodies move together—the sway of our hips, the pace of our feet—and I’m floating.

“Ember,” he whispers against my ear. I’m afraid to look up at him, scared he’ll see everything—how much my heart has missed him, how much I want him. “Ember. Look at me,” he whispers again, and I blink my eyes open and lift my chin. His gaze is searing, cutting through all the things we haven’t said, all the time that’s passed. I can see it clearly in those eyes that captivated me from the moment I first stared into them—that nothing has changed for him either. He cups my cheek in the warmth of his palm. “Go out with me.”

“We are out,” I counter, my pulse racing too fast.

“On a date.” His mouth curves. “Go out on a date with me. You know you want to.” His grin widens and my fingers flex against his shirt with the desire to touch him; his hair, his jaw, his lips.

“Still so cocky.”

“Always.” His whole face brightens. “Is that a yes?”

My eyes map the soft lines of his face and I nod. “Yes.”

“When?” he asks without hesitation, and I let out a breathless laugh because even anxious, he’s adorable.

“Whenever you want.”

“Tomorrow night,” he suggests right away, as if he can’t wait a minute longer. I nod again, my head finding his chest once more. “Tomorrow,” he breathes into my ear, and my toes curl inside my sneakers.

I didn’t want to sleep tonight anyway.





TOMORROW.

A concept I never gave a shit about until I met Ember. Now I want to fill all my tomorrows with her, and the spaces in between too.

My mother’s stone sits heavy in my hand, the weight of missing her bears down on me. Still, I’m uplifted. Maybe it’s knowing I’m going to see Ember tonight. Or maybe it’s because I know how much my mother would have loved her, evidenced by that one day they met. I picture them sitting down over coffee, talking about art, laughing together. The thought brings a smile to my face and settles me somehow. It dawns on me how Ember is like the river—how she calms me and brings me a sense of peace. One I haven’t had for quite some time.

The stone finds its way to the familiar spot at the bottom of my pocket. I grab my wallet off the dresser and tuck it inside the lining of my leather jacket. As I run a hand through my hair, I take one last glance in the mirror, unable to recognize the guy staring back at me. But for once, I actually think that’s a good thing.

Chris pokes his head in. “Where are you t-taking Ember tonight?”

“Not sure, still. I was thinking about either The Moth StorySLAM or the Village Vanguard.” Sweat gathers under the neck of my shirt and I look over at Chris. “I’m f*cking nervous.”

“Why?”

I shrug, working my jaw back and forth. “I’ve never cared about another girl the way I care about her. It’s pretty f*cking scary, actually.”

“I imagine love is.” Chris grips the doorframe, eyes full of intent. “I d-don’t know. She seems like she feels the same. I saw the way she was looking at you last night. Speaking of which,” he smirks, “that sister of hers is a real character. Don’t you think?”

I’m too focused on the first thing he said. My brain taking more time than usual to process. “What? Oh yeah, she’s a character all right. She might be available too.”

“Anyway.” He taps a finger against the wood. “I hope it goes the way you want it to. You d-deserve it.”

“So do you.” I snag my keys from the bedside table then walk over to him. We’ve known each other long enough that I know what’s coming next.

His voice lowers, eyes avoiding my stare. “Deserving it and being able to g-get it are two different things.”