Last Call (27 page)

I turn my head to give her a lethal death glare. “You know this wouldn’t have happened if you would’ve just helped me get out of my dress in the first place!” I snap. She only looks back to me with her giggling expression.

Jason comes to my side and helps me zip up my dress. He then helps Jerrica get Wilson off the floor and usher him to the reception where the wedding party will sit.

On our way into the reception, Jason walks beside me while doing the best he can to suppress his laughter.

I snap my glare to him. “Where the hell were you? You were supposed to be guarding the door!”

He can no longer hold it, laughing loudly at me. “Royce pulled me to the window to look at the ship going by, and I didn’t see him go in. Sorry.” He is still laughing, and I can’t help smiling along with him. God, I can be an idiot sometimes.

“Yeah, laugh it up, cowboy.”

“You know, that wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t make me leave the bathroom,” Jason says very matter-of-factly and smiles dearly back at me.

I only shake my head and walk to my designated spot at the wedding party table.

J
ason

We go through the typical wedding rigmarole as I politely sit through the toast, first dance, cake cutting, and all the other bullshit that accompanies a wedding reception. Now I remember why I hate going to these things. They are so dreadfully boring and even worse when you don’t know anyone.

It’s been nearly impossible for me to keep my phone in my pocket and not answer some business emails that have accumulated over the day, but out of respect for Mariah and her family, I’ve kept it in my pocket and plastered a smile on my face.

While the necessary events happen for the reception, I take a moment to look around and observe the room. This once boring banquet room has been transformed into an elegant ballroom. The lighting is muted; only tones of purple and soft candlelight illuminate the room. The tables are covered in a black cloth with crystal drinking glasses, expensive sliver cutlery, fine china, and candles surrounded by an intricate floral display in purple. I am quite impressed. I’ve been to many black tie events, and this small wedding reception is as fine as I’ve seen. I’ve got to hand it to Jerrica, she knows what she’s doing.

However, the best part of the night is about to start when I notice Mariah is finally free to dance. There is no way in hell I will leave this woman without having a dance with her in that very sexy dress she’s wearing.

She comes strolling over to the table and sits down in the chair next to me. “Having fun?” she asks as she plops her foot in my lap, demanding I take her shoes off. I smile and run my fingers over the leather strap, unfastening it from her foot.

“Yes, it’s been interesting, that’s for sure,” I answer as I lower her foot and motion with my fingers for her to pick up her other one. I repeat the steps, unfastening the strap, but instead of lowering her foot to the ground, I start to rub the balls of her foot and instep.

She lets out a sigh of relief. “God, that feels good. I don’t understand why women feel the need to torture themselves in these freaking things. I can’t stand wearing heels unless I’m drunk enough not to feel it.” With that, she picks up her champagne glass and swallows the remaining contents.

I lower her foot to the ground and start rubbing her other one as Mariah sinks deeper into her chair, completely relaxing to my touch. I love watching her face overwhelmed with pleasure, and I love that it’s my touch that gets her there.

“I know what will make this night better,” I say, getting her attention back to me and not the ceiling. “You need to dance with me.”

She sits straight up and jerks her foot from my lap. “I don’t dance, Jason.”

“Yes, you do. I watched you at Toxic, and I’d say you dance quite well.” I remember the way her hips move as they matched the beat in the music, her ass moving perfectly as it matched the rhythm of the song. I will never forget how hypnotized I was at watching her every movement.

“That was different. I wasn’t slow dancing, and I wasn’t dancing with the man who later asked me to be his fuck buddy, and now is…” She trails off, knowing we are really nothing right now. We really aren’t friends or sexual partners. We are label–less. The thought is a little disconcerting.

I stand to my feet and pull her out of the chair. I refuse to think about what we used to be and what we will be no longer. I merely want to live in this moment and dance with this beautiful woman.

“I don’t care what we are, Mariah. I am not going to look at you in that dress and not have at least one dance with you.” I thread our fingers, leading us to the wooden dance floor. 

Together, we hear the music switch to Sam Smith’s “Stay with Me” over the speakers. The lyrics are perfect for us. It’s how we began our relationship—a one-night stand. If she allows me to have her one more time, it will be how we end our relationship.

She clutches her hand in mine, and I wrap my arm around her waist. The tempo is more upbeat for a slow song, but we move slowly anyway, refusing to conform. I can feel everything around us drop away. It’s only the two of us dancing on an island of our own.

Her eyes move up to mine, and we are finally feeling the moment as we dance around in a slow circle. For the first time this weekend, I allow my heart to feel the loss that will occur after tomorrow. She tips her head up, looking directly at me, and in that solitary look, I know she is thinking the same thing.

We slowly circle around in our own little space as I hold her tightly to my body. The light hardwood dance floor keeps my feet planted to the floor when the moment has made me feel as light as a feather. Mariah’s skin is painted with hues of violet from the lighting, the softness of her skin in the candlelight holding me captive.

As the lights sway across the room and music goes on around us, we escape into an invisible bubble where only she and I belong. The moment couldn’t be more perfect, and I’m not stupid enough to let it go by again.

Scanning her face, my gaze focuses on her supple lips, and then I move my head closer to hers. As our lips touch, my hand leaves her waist and slowly slides up her side, over her shoulder until it finds its natural place for a kiss this earth shattering. I cup the side of her face and tenderly run the pad of my thumb over the apple of her cheek. Like we’ve been doing it our entire lives, Mariah slides her hand up my chest and holds my face in the same fashion. The moment is ours, and we hold onto it as long as we can.

She and I both know this will be the first of the last moments for us. After this weekend, the unconventional relationship we’ve started has to end because neither of us wants to end up being burned by the time it’s over.

We continue to kiss slowly, passionately, until the music has evaporated and the lights have brightened. When I open my eyes, Mariah is looking back at me with a terrified expression. I can tell she’s worried about Royce, and she has every right to be concerned.

The small three-minute dream is washed away as reality sets in. While Mariah steps away, whispering sorry, and goes to find her son, I am left stranded on the dance floor, yearning for our moment to last a few more minutes.

M
ariah

I
abandon Jason on the dance floor to find a place to hide in the bathroom.

The moment his lips had touched mine, I could feel the swell of emotion I have for him bubble to the surface. I love him. I’ve admitted that to myself months ago, but this kiss cemented how much I love him. He is completely unpredictable, funny, sweet, cocky, and a little bit of an asshole… but damn, I love that about him, too.

However, what I think I love the most about him is the way he is with my son. He isn’t afraid to talk to Royce or play with him. He smiles a real, genuine smile he rarely shows when he looks at my son. And this weekend, he’s giving me that same enduring smile. Could it be possible? Could Jason finally want to try to be more with me? Am I brave enough to admit I want that too?

I can’t possibly go on another second with the bouncing questions in my head. I reach down in the cup of my bra and pull my cell phone out from between my breasts—having decent size boobs works in the absence of having a purse with you. I scroll through the contacts until Giselle’s beautiful face is looking back at me. With a swipe of my finger, I am calling her and listening to the ring on the other end of the phone.

“Hello,” Giselle’s voice singsongs on the other end. Music is playing in the background and she is humming to the beat.

I say nothing, my words lodged in my throat, stuck. I can’t make myself talk. It’s then I feel my emotions start to bubble. I realize that is why I cannot vocalize anything.

“Mariah…? Are you okay?”

“Mmmhmm,” I manage to communicate, but it doesn’t prevent the single tear from falling down my face.

“Take a deep breath and tell me what’s going on.” The background music silences as Giselle gives me her full attention. I imagine her walking to her couch and sitting down, preparing for the worst.

I inhale in and out a couple of times then begin to speak. “Jason kissed me.”

“And… you’ve never kissed before?” She sounds confused, and why wouldn’t she be?

“Yes, G, we’ve kissed, but never like that. It was something…” I trail off, unable to admit what the hell is going on in my mind.

“Mariah, you love him, and you’ve spent all this time trying to un-love him when that will never be possible for you. I know it’s scary, but you have to tell him how you feel. The only way you will have any kind of sanity and a future is to jump off the ledge.”

I can feel my eyes bubble over when I realize my best friend is right. The moment I realized I love this man, I knew she was right. I probably should have done this ages ago, but I was scared. I don’t want to be rejected; yet I’m afraid to be in a relationship with him. The unexpected future is toying with the last shreds of sanity I have left. I have to jump.

“Okay. I will talk to him tonight,” I whisper as I wipe the lone tear from my face.

“Mariah, you have to have faith that everything will work out, even if Jason doesn’t say he loves you back. This is a necessary step for you to get yourself a brand new lease on your love life.”

“Okay. I should probably go before someone comes looking for me. Thanks, lady.”

“You’re welcome, doll.” Giselle disconnects the phone while I do the same.

I move from the stall and assess my appearance in the mirror. My hair still looks pretty, but my cheeks are flush and my eyes are glassy. God, why can’t I cry pretty? At least my nose didn’t turn apple red like it normally does.

I run the tissue under my eyes, making sure I don’t have mascara running down my face, and fan my eyeballs with my hands. I’m not sure why I am doing this because it does nothing, but the girls do this in the movies, don’t they?

When I make it back to the banquet hall, “
Happy
” by Pharrell Williams begins to blast through the speakers. Before I can find Jason to confess my heart, Royce has my hand and is pulling me to the dance floor. This is an anthem of ours. The moment the song comes on the radio, we always sing and dance around the room, and tonight’s no different. We get out on the dance floor and command the audience.

I take my son’s hands and we wildly shake our hips as we dance in a circle. He then spins on the floor, mimicking break dancing moves he’s seen on movies. Royce flips himself up on his hands and kicks his legs in a jerking motion. You must stand back when he’s busting his moves. I learned the hard way and had a black eye for a week. A foot to the eye sucks.

When the music starts to break down, Royce and I move around the dance floor, making the group form a line. We start clapping our hands interchangeably, first high then low. The entire dance floor follows suit until they are copying us. The wedding guests are making a chain of bodies as we clap and sing to the music. As a group, we break off from our line and make a Soul Train dance line. Everyone in the group stands on either side, moving to the beat, while one person goes down the middle, showing off their moves.

My pregnant sister of course goes first. She has no business shaking her ass when she’s six weeks from popping out her kid, but that doesn’t stop her. She struts like a peacock as she bobs her head from side to side and shakes her basketball belly. My mother is about to have a coronary, but when Wendi finishes her skills, she visibly relaxes.

Jerrica and Wilson also shuffle together as they do a mild version of swing dancing. She is so incredibly happy, and Wilson is madly in love with her. It’s very promising for the losers like me. I love seeing her smile, and with Wilson by her side, I know she will be doing it all the time.

Royce and I are next. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jason watching us. I haven’t had the opportunity to see his face since I ran out on our kiss, but he’s smiling his huge grin. It makes me feel good about what will go down later tonight.