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This girl is stubborn though, and she never lets me forget it. “Show me,” Elise demands.
Fuck it,I think, and on the next swell of music, I move closer and press her body against mine. The sizzle of electricity between us is automatic, especially when Elise releases a tiny gasp of surprise. That noise goes straight to the most scandalous parts of me. We move together like one single entity; a ship rocking on the ocean waves. Like this moment, us together like this was inevitable.
“This is how we would be dancing,” I tell her, my face so close to hers that my breath stirs her hair. “Ifyou were my girlfriend.”
I see her eyes flutter closed, and I know she’s savoring the moment just like I am, committing our dance to her memory to hold on to forever. Then, she lays her head on my shoulder, completing our connection. Seeing her do that triggers a rush of emotion in me that I’ve never felt before, because it means maybe, just maybe, she feels the same way I do.
Her body is soft and pliable in my arms, and I swear I can control myself, but Elise lifts her head, her nose brushing against mine, and my self-control runs away from me in a furious rush. All that’s left are my desires, and at this moment, the only one I have is to kiss her.
I run my hands from her waist up her back where her dress leaves it bare, her skin like silk, and when she shivers I move in, slanting my face just enough so that when our lips meet, it will be perfect.
And, oh my God, she’s moving in for the kiss too, meeting me halfway. I have to have her. I have to–
The music falls away and the lights start to come up on the dance floor. We remain in limbo for a few seconds more, but in my heart I know the moment has been ruined.
Elise jumps away first, her face flushed. She refuses to meet my gaze, pausing only briefly before fleeing back to our table. Feeling dumbstruck and defeated, I follow her, not knowing where else to go.
The rest of the night is taut and silent, the ghost of our almost kiss hovering over the table and weighing heavily on us both. I almost kissed Elise—my best friend’s sister… what the fuck is wrong with me? Andries will kill me if I start to mess around with her, which of course means I’m doomed to crave this woman that I can never have like no other. Like water in the desert.
It’s too much for me, talking with Elise and pretending like we didn’t both almost confess our feelings in the physical sense. I excuse myself, escaping to the bar just so I can breathe a little. I order and get myself a glass of scotch, leaning against the bar and breathing slowly as I drink. If I can just have this moment alone to recharge, I’ll be able to finish out the night.
What I don’t expect, though, is the man sitting beside me scrolling through pictures on a tablet with his chunky camera around his neck. As he pursues them, I see one that looks just a little too familiar, and it makes my blood pressure start to rise.
“Excuse me,” I tell him, and he looks up. “Can you go back two pictures?”
He does so, and to my misery, it’s a perfectly framed shot of Elise and I almost kissing. We’re so close together there isn’t really any way to know if we actually are or not, but it’s more than enough to get me in trouble if it comes out. Even worse, the man has captured the entire dance in a series of ten pictures.
“I’d like to buy the exclusivity for these pictures,” I announce quickly. “Name your price.”
The photographer, confused, takes a second to process. Eventually, he clears his throat and nods. “Sure. It’ll be five hundred and fifty euros paid now on Tikkie.”
It’s highway robbery, no doubt about it, but less than other paparazzi might have charged me. I give him a tight nod. “Fine, but you’ll have to email them to me first, and then I want to see you delete them and the email.”
He simply shrugs, but complies, sending the pictures to the address I type in his iPad. Once the pictures have successfully landed in my mailbox, he then lets me watch him as he deletes them off his own device.
“Done,” he announces, before he grabs his smartphone and starts generating a QR code for me to scan and complete the payment.
I waste no time scanning the code and the transaction is done swiftly.
“Thank you for your business,” the man says with a smile before leaving my side.
I breathe a sigh of relief. At least that problem is taken care of quickly. If it had gone viral, or gotten slapped on a tabloid, I’d never live it down, and I’d lose my best friend. That’s just not something I’m willing to do.
I look through the busy crowd, spotting Elise back at our table, standing and talking to some other socialites. Honestly… I’m glad to have the pictures just for myself so I can look back on this night with her and remember it all.
When I drop her off for the night, we’re more relaxed. Almost back to normal, actually, and I consider asking her if she wants to just drive around for a while and listen to music, but decide against it. It’s just that I hate to see her go.
I walk her to her apartment door, and she lets me rest my hand on her back as I do so. She walks slowly, maybe just as reluctant to have the night end as I am. Elise looks at me one more time before entering her apartment, eyes scanning my face like she’s waiting on something. Should I kiss her now and make up for what we missed out on? The temptation is here, and it’s sodamn hard not to act on it. But no, it’s a terrible idea, and even though it hurts my heart, I’ve got to tell her goodbye like a friend does.
“Thank you so much for the evening,” I say, trying to focus on something else than her beautiful, glossy lips. “It was great.”
She nods, the corner of her mouth spreading into a smile. “It was great, yeah.”
We keep silent for a short instant, and before it gets too awkward, I shove my hands in my pants pocket and say, “Well, have a good one.” I don’t even kiss her on the cheek, keeping my lips away from her skin.
She looks disappointed but wishes me good night, before turning her back on me and pushing her door to step inside. By the time I call the elevator to go down, Elise is gone, and I’m alone again.
I head home, showering and brushing my teeth in what seems like a trance. Once in bed, I give in to temptation and open my email on my phone. Lo and behold, the photos are already in my inbox. They’re all special pictures to me, but nothing compares to the one where we are nearly kissing. Looking at it, I’m full of regret. Maybe I should text her? Or send her the photo and see what her reaction is?
