The First Move Page 29

  The song was ending when he led her into a cross bar lead. She knew what was coming. “I still haven’t forgiven you,” she said with her mouth close to his ear after a turn.

  He braced his arms under her shoulders to support her as she bent backward into a dip, the cotton of his shirt smooth as silk against her bare skin. He pulled her tight to him, her breasts pressed against him, and whispered, “I’ve not properly apologized yet,” before releasing her into the final turn.

  The cloud that had hovered over her dance with Miles ended with the music. The other people in the class clapped and she could feel her cheeks go red, but she didn’t care. For the duration of the dance, she and Miles had been free together.

  “It looks like you two have been practicing,” the instructor said in his booming voice. “You’ve got all the basic moves and for the last class, we’re going to learn styling. Ladies, you look lovely just moving your hands at your sides as you step, but with styling, you will look gorgeous. How you move your hands will accentuate your curves and lengthen your body. Since these two have already put on a show, we’ll use them for demonstration.”

  “Let’s show them just how perfect we can be together,” Miles said against her neck as they walked to the front of the class.

  * * *

  RENIA WASN’T NERVOUS until they were back in her apartment. He’d said he was sorry and had come to their last dance lesson, but the last time he’d been sitting at her dining table, he’d said nasty things. But they weren’t unforgivable things. Besides, she’d faced a conversation with her mother, so she could face one with Miles.

  The cool air of the fridge wasn’t enough to slow the racing of her heart as she pulled out two bottles of iced coffee, unable to wait long enough for coffee to be made.

  The sound of her heartbeat in her ears only exasperated the questions rolling in her mind. What else could he have to say to her? What did he mean when he said he’d not properly apologized? She tried to hang on to the inane question of whether or not she should get glasses for them to drink out of.

  And what was in the paper grocery bag he’d brought? Were those her clothes? Was this an apology, last dance and see-ya-later?

  No glasses, she decided finally. Perhaps the casualness of the bottles would hide her nerves. The glass bottles clinked on the wood as she set them down next to the stuffed chickadee that had become a permanent resident on her table. Miles held out his hand when she sat down, but she didn’t take it. She’d been in his arms throughout the entire dance lesson, but that was the dance lesson. This was life. She couldn’t rely on his hand to be there for her. She had to be able to get through this on her own.

  Liar. She wanted to sit next to Miles and enjoy his company without remembering that he’d hurled her past at her with the force of one of his fantasy football quarterbacks. She wanted to know his hand would be there for her to hold, but also know she could go on without it.

  “Why are you here?” She slid the bottle closer to her, wishing she had something warm to hold on to.

  “To apologize. Rey, I’m so sorry.”

  “YOU DISAPPOINTED me,” she responded. “You promised me you wouldn’t judge. You even gave me a promise chickadee and then...”

  Rey wasn’t going to make an apology easy. Miles didn’t really expect her to, but a man could hope. Dancing had loosened her tight control on her emotions only while they’d been moving. The moment they’d stepped through the studio doors onto the street, she’d seized up again.

  “I judged. And I disappointed myself when I did it.”

  Despite her placid face, he could see she was holding on to her emotions the same way she was gripping the iced coffee bottle as she brought it to her mouth. Her lips closing over the edge of the bottle would leave a trace of pink lipstick on the glass. It had been a little over twenty-four hours since he’d fucked up, but he already missed those lips. Her big brown eyes peered at him over the rim of the bottle. He missed her eyes more, their bright intensity when they made love and the way the corners curled up exotically when she smiled.

  “I was wrong.”

  Her eyebrows were raised as she lowered the bottle, but there was no reason not to be forthright when the affection of the woman he loved was at stake.

  “I’m listening,” she said slowly.

  Just because he was determined to be honest, and he thought she would respond well, didn’t make what he had to say next any easier. He took a deep breath, which didn’t do anything other than make him cough. “You know I had a crush on you in high school.”

  “That’s what you say.”

  Her snippiness made him smile, which triggered a frown from her. “The thing is, you were my dream girl in high school. From the moment you sat in my freshman English class, every fantasy I had starred you. When I read Byron’s description of a woman walking in beauty, I knew he had to be talking about you.”

  “That’s pretty creepy,” she said and took a sip of her coffee. But she didn’t sound upset, mostly amused.

  “I was a teenage boy. Everything I did was pretty creepy.”

  The corners of her mouth turned up an infinitesimal degree. Amused and trying to hide it.

  “I was the dork from Weird Science and you were the hot chick. Since I was a teenage boy, I imagined you with as much depth as their science experiment. I did at least try to think of you in terms of poetry, too, but that wasn’t all I thought.”

  The corners of her lips fell. She wasn’t amused anymore, which was understandable. He felt terrible for confessing it and even worse for having once felt that way. Still...

  “Are you going to say anything?”

  “You’re digging a hole for yourself just fine, without my help.”

  He chuckled and wished he could kiss her, but he should probably wait until he’d finished apologizing. He’d gotten away with dancing with her before really acknowledging he had been wrong, but now she was liable to dump the coffee over his head, and smile while doing it, if he made a premature move. He already felt like an ass without the added ridiculousness of iced coffee dripping off his nose.

  “And you seem pretty chipper for a man apologizing for being wrong.”

  “What I’m trying to confess, even if I’m going about it in the worst way possible, is pretty stupid. If I take myself too seriously, I might be too embarrassed to go on.” He straightened his face into seriousness. Embarrassing or not, he meant every word of his confession and apology.

  “Okay. I was your fantasy. I get it.”

  “And now you’re real.”

  “Are you disappointed?”

  “The opposite, actually.” The subtle lift of her eyes gave away her pleasure at his comments. Even though she probably wouldn’t be smiling when he finished, Miles continued. “I’m not very good at accepting change and on Sunday, I had to face some big changes. Sarah’s not a little girl anymore. She shouldn’t have lied to me and Cathy about the party, or had alcohol, and she shouldn’t have had to punch a boy so she wasn’t assaulted. She accused me of never preparing her for what to do when she was tempted, that I expected her never to be tempted.”

  “I heard her say that. She was defending me.”

  “Yeah.” Rey could go from amused to ticked off faster than anyone he knew, except maybe his daughter. Rey would keep him on his toes. “She was right. I was never tempted in high school to do anything other than study and watch football, so I was angry that she failed my high standards. And scared for her,
that she would do it again and not be able to get away.”

  “It’s not fair to put your daughter on a pedestal.”

  “I put you both on a pedestal, which wasn’t fair to either of you. When I thought of the fantasy girl from my teen years, I pictured the girl I wrote poetry for in high school English. I didn’t picture the real you. Everything you did in high school became manifest in my fears for Sarah, and I blamed you for it. On Sunday, that illusion I had of you both broke into crumbly little pieces that cut me when I touched them.”

  Rey made a move to stand, but Miles laid his hand on her arm. “Please let me finish. Then you can kick me out, never to return, but hear me out first.”

  She settled back in her chair, butt at the edge of her seat in case she needed to escape at a moment’s notice.

  “Aside from the hypocrisy of my own teen temptation that led to Sarah, I never slipped up in high school because you never asked me to. I can be mad at Sarah for not being a perfect teenager. I can be mad at you for not being the perfect fantasy of my teen years, but all that ignores the truth. In high school, maybe even now, I would have followed you down the yellow brick road to hell if you asked.”

  She scooted farther back in her chair, resting against the back of it. Listening.

  “And when I was scared for Sarah, and mad at her, I wished you’d called me. I’d put you on a pedestal that you didn’t want and when you slipped on the crumbling dais, I struck back.” Deep breath, she wasn’t smiling. “It was stupid, especially since the fantasy Rey from my memory is a pale ghost of the real thing. I’m not a teenager anymore. I don’t think of love in terms of physical beauty and Byron.”

  “Shakespeare? Donne?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t remember anything from that English class.”

  “‘But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, and loved the sorrows of your changing face.’ Yeats. And that’s how I feel about you. It’s not your beauty I admire, but all of you.”

  “Oh.” If she was smiling now, she hid it with a sip of her iced coffee. Were those tears in her eyes? He thought this was going well, but wasn’t sure.

  “And I trust you with Sarah as much as I trust myself with her.”

  Rey looked like she was chewing what he’d said over and over in her mind. “What’s in the bag?” she said finally.

  “Another apology present.”

  “I’m not sure your follow-through on the last one was so good.” She pushed down on the bird, which called out chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee.

  “No, but I’m a quick study. Next time I make a mistake, it will be a different one.” The stiff brown paper crinkled when he searched through the bag for Rey’s first present. He found what he was looking for and slid it over to her.

  “Oh,” she cooed, running her finger down the glass covering a photograph of her family dressed up for a Christmas photo, but looking far from a perfect family between the pinching younger brother and father trying to escape the camera.

  “Your mom thought you’d like that picture better than the one where you’re all smiling, but she also gave me this.” He slid another framed photograph over to her. “Because otherwise you wouldn’t have a picture of your father’s face.”

  The second photograph was of Rey’s father on his wedding day. He looked overwhelmed by the ruffles on his tuxedo shirt, but his parents stood by his side looking proudly at the camera.

  “I’d forgotten he once had a mustache,” Rey whispered.

  “I think it and the ruffles were a requirement in the ’70s.”

  She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Thank you for the pictures, but why...?”

  “I’m not finished.” He reached in the bag for the next picture. “I got this one from Tilly.”

  Rey reached out for the photograph he pushed toward her. Karl stood between his two sisters in graduation robes, the women looking up at him with a mix of awe and mischief in their eyes.

  “Karl’s law school graduation. Mom insisted Aunt Maria take a picture of the three of us.” Rey made a noise somewhere between a laugh, a cough and a cry. “Tilly and I are pinching him and you can’t even tell by his face.”

  Miles laughed. “No, but you can tell by your faces.”

  She looked up from the table to the bag. Her eyes were damp, but she wasn’t crying. “Are there more?”

  “Two more.” He didn’t know which he should save for last, so he pulled the final two pictures out of the bag at the same time and pushed them over to her.

  One picture was of him and Sarah that his mom had taken while boating in Wisconsin.

  “Where did you get this?” Rey whispered. The other was a picture of Ashley with the members of her Varsity Four team, all with gold medals hanging around their necks.

  “Sarah asked for it on Facebook. We thought it would seem less creepy if she asked for a photo than if I did.”

  Rey picked up the photograph in both her hands and stared at the image of her daughter for a long time, tears running down her face. She didn’t say anything, just looked.

  “Why didn’t you take any pictures while she was here?”

  “Because I’m always the person who takes the pictures and so am never the person in the pictures. She’s my daughter.” Rey’s finger circled Ashley’s face in the picture. “I didn’t want to be on the side.”

  “Next time you see Ashley, Sarah can take the pictures.”

  “Next time?”

  “This is my big apology. I’m hoping this makes up for being an ass.”

  “Why pictures?” She tilted her head, one eye on the photo, one eye on him.

  “The first time I was here, I noticed you didn’t have any pictures of your family in your apartment. I’m hoping now you’ll let us in.”

  “Us?”

  Miles pushed the picture of him and Sarah closer to Rey. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have be her stepmother.”

  “Oh.”

  All she could say was oh? How was he supposed to interpret oh? Don’t chicken out now, Miles. Hail Mary pass.

  “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have more children with. I mean, if you want another child.”

  “Oh,” she said again. She was frustrating and lovely and he wanted her to say more. Was his apology working or was he going to slink home with his tail between his legs? “Is that a proposal?”

  The breath he’d been holding in fear escaped in one loud huff and joy filled his empty lung space. Thank God! Finally, a reaction he could decode into something useful. She wanted a proposal. He could do that. “Not yet. I love you. I want to marry you, but I’ll do a better job with a proposal than show up at a dance lesson and drink your coffee.”

  “I had a good time dancing.”

  “If that were a proposal, was that a yes?”

  She shrugged and her eyes twinkled at him. More tears, but they were definitely good tears. “Maybe after another dance class.”

  He pursed his lips and looked at the magnificent woman sitting at the table with him. Could he be so lucky? Like all high school nerds, he instinctively distrusted reality when his social life seemed to go the way he wanted it to. He trusted Rey, but the cosmos were under suspicion. “You seem to have forgiven me awfully fast.”

  She lifted her eyebrows at him, a smile teasing her lips. “Do you want me to still be mad?”

  “No, but if that was a trick question, I’m smart enough to give whatever answer you want.”

&nbs
p; She laughed and waved her hand at his ridiculous statement. “I had a long conversation with my mom yesterday.”

  “That’s good.” The strained looks of love and pain between Rey and her mother during the dinner with Ashley had been painful to watch.

  “I told her I wanted children and she told me I should be ready to mess up, but that I probably won’t ruin my children when I do.”

  “I hope I’ve not ruined Sarah. I’ve made plenty of mistakes.” Understatement of the year. He’d nearly ruined Sarah’s relationship with Cathy, yet their strange little family seemed to have survived his idiocy.

  “If I’m going to forgive my own mistakes, it’s only fair that I forgive yours. I love you.”

  She had forgiven him and loved him—his past mistakes and all. Breathing was so much easier now that he wasn’t holding his breath. Ecstasy in, relief out. She had forgiven him and would marry him, his past mistakes and all. He stood. Her skin was soft against his palms when he put his hands on her arms and lifted her so they stood face-to-face, breast-to-breast.

  She wouldn’t dump coffee on his head if he kissed her now. “I’ll definitely fuck up again, you know,” he whispered into her ear before nibbling her earlobe, her diamond stud clinking against his teeth.

  She dropped her head to the side, offering up her long stretch of neck to his mouth. “In new and interesting ways, I hope.”

  His own laughter surprised him. “I’m sure the many ways I will find to piss you off will be a surprise to both of us.”

  He swept her hair out of the way and kissed a line down her neck from her ear to the neckline of her dress. She smelled like coconut and soap and coffee. Like Rey, his Rey, now and forever. Her shoulders relaxed when she moaned, and she slipped her hands around his waist. She bunched his shirt in her hands and he wished she would just pull it out from his pants so he could feel her smooth skin on his back. He kissed his way around the collar of her dress, to the other side of her neck.