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“Sure.” She left Ben saying goodbye to Piper and Cicely.
“I can stay.”
“Case, you can go, really.”
He frowned. “Look, you don’t need any more guy drama, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Overprotective, much? “I appreciate your concern, Case, but I’m a big girl, and Ben and me…it’s not like that. I’ll be fine, really…” She looped her arm through Casey’s, pulling him back to their friends. “Thanks for coming, guys. Get home safe, okay?”
Piper teetered into Riley, planting a sloppy smooch on her cheek. “All yours, Ben!” Her hazy eyes tried a wink but failed. She resorted instead to her old standby, a high five, but her aim was off and she swatted Ben’s cheek mid-sway.
Cicely cringed and pulled her away. “Okay, night everyone!”
“Bye.” Casey followed behind, glancing over his shoulder.
Ben didn’t move until they were gone. “Casey doesn’t like me.”
“Don’t be silly! C’mon!” Riley grabbed Ben’s arms, encouraging him to jump back into the fast-paced song, but DJ Bob chopped it off mid-chorus with a new tune, slower in tempo with a steady drumbeat and sparse keyboards.
“Oh!” YES! A slower song. Riley giggled as people scattered and a brave few coupled up. This reminds me of junior high. Ew, boys! Run for it.
Ben leaned in, the music urgent and yearning. “You thirsty?”
Not for booze. Damn! Her shoulders slumped. Ben wants to run for it. He was holding on for balance—stupid girl. “Not…really.” Her eyes darted, following the mass exodus they were about to join.
“Um, do you…” Ben rubbed his jaw like it would help loosen the words from his tongue. “Wanna dance?”
Want? Yes! Yes! YES! Her eyes widened, but she gave a noncommittal nod. “If you do…” She suppressed her smile with a quick question. “What’s this song?” Slipping her arms around Ben’s neck, he reciprocated, embracing her lower back.
“Uh, it’s by The Cure.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he moved closer, his cheek resting softly against her temple.
Gentle and hesitant, they swayed together, each movement inviting Ben’s stubble to press and tickle. His fingers shifted, searching her lower back for a safe place to land.
Is he uncomfortable? Being this close? Riley pulled back, meeting his eyes with a smile. It’s okay, Ben. I won’t break. She leaned in again, tightening her grip behind his neck, her confident embrace working its magic, helping him relax.
While I’m here… She nuzzled his neck and inhaled deeply. It’s so subtle…citrusy aftershave mixed with…Ben! And sweat. Holy. Hell! A pang in her chest drew her closer, pressing against him as his words from the party teased. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”
She sniffed again and her eyes rolled closed, surrendering…to his scent, his words, and the music, its gentle beat competing with the pounding beneath Ben’s shirt. His pulse is racing. Lyrics about home and love—flying to the moon—joined Ben’s declaration swirling in her mind, hugging her heart and taking her somewhere she had never been.
Ben’s fingers tensed, digging into her lower back. She pressed a soft smile into his shoulder, the firmness lurking underneath his damp shirt making her catch her breath. He tilted his head into hers, his weight comforting and welcome as they disappeared into the music…and each other, as if the song had been written just for them…their breaths rapid, their hearts whirling, everyone else on the dance floor vanishing as the singer crooned, “I will always love—”
Mid-chorus, the room plunged into stunned silence.
“Hey!” “What the fuck, Bob?” Sharp voices erupted around them. “Not a-fucking-gain!”
Riley slowly pried her eyes opened. Fuck! Her pupils recoiled, assaulted by the brightness of the venue’s fluorescents flickering to full strength. Her flinch prompted Ben to lift his head and pull away, but his half-lidded gaze was soft and dreamy, not quite in the room despite the jeers from dissatisfied dancers infiltrating their ears.
“Party’s over, folks.” DJ Bob’s gravelly voice, a souvenir of his two-packs-a-day habit, snarled over the complaints. Dust particles mocked the crowd, dancing alone in the beams of the colored spotlights.
Riley squinted, finding Ben’s eyes waiting for her. “What was that song? It’s gorgeous.”
“Lovesong.” He sighed, and then his lips curved into a sweet smile. “Let’s get you home.”
Forty
Ben fidgeted on Riley’s loveseat, his eyes drifting up to the strings of fairy lights crisscrossing overhead. I feel like I’m taking advantage. “But you already gave me a card…” A second slice of birthday cake waited on the milk crate beside his knees.
“Don’t you know the nonnegotiable birthday rules?” Riley reached past his legs and pulled two gifts wrapped in racing Pac-Mans and ghosts from underneath the loveseat. “There must be cake, and there must be presents.”
