My So Called Life (Love Not Included Series Book 3) (34 page)

“Yes, peanut, she sure does.” He doesn’t take his eyes off mine. He steps forward to take my hand. Once he laces our fingers together, he pulls me inward so our chests meet. He dips his head and places his lips just to the rim of my earlobe. I feel his hot breath hitting my skin and it’s no shocker my whole body breaks out in goose bumps.

“What I wanted to say was seeing you in that dress makes me want you in the worst way. And it’s going to be a very painful dance before I get you home and do all the dirty things that I’m envisioning doing to you right at this very moment.” His whispered foreplay sends a kick-start to my lady bits. I try not to act fazed by his hot words but my eyes close on their own accord.

His next move proves my weakness as he lays a gentle kiss to the back of my ear. His hand goes quickly around my waist, since he seems to know my body better than I do, and braces my lower back as my knees begin to buckle. He pulls his face in front of mine and chuckles. “You okay there, princess?”

Phsst.
Okay, I think I just got off on his words and may need to change my panties before we head out in public. “I’m just fine,” I choke out. My wet bits say otherwise. The body wants what it wants and I’m not sure it wants to wait until after the dance to be fulfilled.

“Let’s go! Let’s go! The cawwage is waiting!” Pippa bursts out, breaking our psychological foreplay.

“To be continued,” he whispers, and smiles again. I grin right back, because I always enjoy a good challenge.

And with that, we head to the ball.

Y
OU WOULD NEVER KNOW
there was a plain old gym behind all these awesome decorations. Walking into the center, we are greeted by two kids, Steven and Jeremiah, dressed smartly in black tuxes, sporting top hats, and handing out pamphlets to the attendees. I notice Patti talking with some parents on the side and she excuses herself to scoop up an impatient Pippa and escort her to the dance floor. We continue to walk, a creatively constructed balloon arch forming a tunnel that leads us to the gym entrance. Once we get a good step inside the gym, we’re surrounded by black, silver and gold filling the space before us. From balloons and streamers to the kids’ artwork, to all the additional decorations I secretly ordered as a surprise, the place looks like a scene right out of a movie.

Scanning the room, I see all the girls attired in assorted colored dresses. Remembering the looks on some of these kids’ faces as they tried on dress after dress with such excitement in their eyes warmed me. These are kids who would never have a chance to attend a school dance because they come from families who could not afford a dress or parents who don’t pay enough attention to realize they have kids with needs or aspirations. I secretly paid for all the dresses, so when the girls go to change into their street clothes, they’ll get yet another surprise that they get to keep the costumes they chose.

What good is money when you don’t use it for good in the world, right?

Walking into the gym, we head toward the left, which leads us to the concession stand.

“Hey, Hillary.” I beam at her as we make it to the stand.

“Hey, Ms. C. Wow, you look amazing!” She smiles at me. She looks at Ian, and of course blushes.
I mean, who wouldn’t?

“Um, hi, Mr. W.”

Ian smiles kindly back. “You look beautiful tonight, Hillary. Thanks for all that you did to help with the dance.”

His praise sends her cheeks ultra-red, and she dips her chin to hide her shyness at his compliment.

“Thank you, Mr. W,” she mumbles to the floor.

“So whatcha got here, Hillary?” I ask, looking at the set-up.

She points out all the goods laid out on the table. “We have snacks, some popcorn and candy bars. Oh, and some punch, Ms. C.”

“Awesome! How about two punches, please.” I hand her more than the cost of the two drinks. She hands us two cups and places the money into the homemade register box she constructed in art class. We turn to observe the scenery and spot Pippa breaking it down on the dance floor with Henry. “She sure is a hyper little thing, isn’t she?” I observe.

“She never stops, that one. Never has. She always gave your sister and John a run for their money. If life didn’t require sleep, she wouldn’t take it.”

“Or if we lived solely on cookies and pancakes she would outlive us all,” I comment back. We both laugh as we watch Pippa twist and spin around poor Henry, who looks close to passing out.

All too quickly, our perfect view is obstructed by the one and only RBF marching straight at us.

“Oh, boy, look—your captor has spotted you.” Ian laughs and puts his free arm around my waist. “Well, better hold on tight so she can’t snatch me and drag me to her dungeon.”

“That or she’ll try to poison you Snow White style.” We both burst out laughing.

As Amber approaches, her face falls. “And what’s so funny over here?” she barks directly at me.

“Oh, nothing, Amber, just enjoying the dance, and you?” Ian asks, being polite. Mr. Hyde’s snarl fades and Dr. Jekyll’s smile appears.

“Well. I’m fine thanks. Just making sure the kids behave. Maybe it would help if you two split up and monitored the floor so we can all keep this event clean.”

Ian’s hold on me tightens while I fight not to burst out into a fit of giggles. “I think the turnout is going great so far. I can make some rounds,” Ian responds. “Amber, quick question though. Any chance, do you have a basement in your house or have access to one?” Ian asks.

I, of course, choke.

And spit punch all over poor Amber.

“What the hell!” she screeches.

“Oh, my God, I am
sooo
sorry.” I reach out to try to brush the punch splatter off her dress, even though I have juice dripping down my face. Ian is no help since he’s laughing into his cup.

“What on earth is wrong with you?” She swats my hand away. “And no, I don’t have a basement in my home.” She definitely does not look happy at the punch splatter or the obvious inside joke.

“Seriously, Amber, I’m
sooo
sorry, really. Let me help clean you up. Then I can buy you a cup of this great punch.”

She provides me with her world-class eye roll and bitch face. “I don’t need your help. And certainly don’t need your charity. Plus, I made the punch. I know exactly how good it is.”

Now
that
causes poor Ian to choke and spit out his drink.

Obviously all over Amber.

“You have got to be kidding me!” she shrieks. Ian looks partly mortified that he just projectile punch all over his associate, and partly disturbed, because I bet you some big ones, my poisoning comment just flashed through his head.

“Oh, Amber, I’m so sorry. I’m not sure what just happened.” Ian attempts to save himself just as well as I did. Thankfully, Amber is done with us and right before she storms off, she spits daggers our way and poof, she’s gone.

“Oh, my God, did that just happen?” I ask, staring at Amber’s stiff back fading into the crowd.

“I’m afraid so,” Ian confirms with the same shocked face as me. “You don’t feel faint or dizzy do you?” He turns to me with that mischievous smirk on his face.

“Not yet. But we should probably not split up in case we both go down.”

“Agreed. How about we monitor the middle of the dance floor. And while we’re out there, maybe you can take me for a spin or two?” he suggests.

“You’re on, pal.” I smile and he leads us to the garbage can. We both simultaneously toss our cups in the trash and make our way to the center of the dance floor. We wave at a few familiar faces, and once in an open spot, he pulls me close, wrapping my arms around his waist.

Just like the movies, the moment we connect, a slow song begins to play around us. Ian lifts his hand to brush my wild hair off my shoulders. He places one hand around my quivering waist, his other behind my neck.

No words are spoken for the first chorus of the song. Our skin touching sends volts of electricity throughout us both with every turn. We stare deeply at one another, our eyes telling a whole story.

A story about young love, tragedy, and second chances. The story of us.

Sometimes life doesn’t take you down the road you wish it to. Sometimes life reroutes you down a path that forces you to take a bit longer to find your way to the perfect ending. I think life did that for Ian and me. Would we be in this spot if our story played out perfectly? Maybe. We both know we can’t rewind to the past. Nor can I take back my decisions. What I can do is promise that I am here now.

As we dance, Ian looks at me like he is seeing me. The real me. The girl who once needed to run to find her sanctuary, and the woman who now holds strong to his love to ground her.

Ian said once that soul mates cannot hide from one another. He used to tell me that no matter where in the universe we landed, he would be somewhere, always loving me. Even as kids, he never doubted his love for me. For us.

“This kind of reminds me of my senior prom,” he says, cutting into my thoughts.

“And how is that?” I wonder.

“You and I dancing. No words. No cares. Just us. When I kissed you right on the dance floor and got us kicked out after refusing to unlatch my lips from your perfect ones.”

The memory makes me smile. He had to force me to his prom. I didn’t have the money for a dress, nor did I want to deal with the stares of his classmates. The argument ended with Ian spending half his savings on the most beautiful dress for me to wear. All just to walk straight into the dance, heading to the middle of the dance floor. We had our silent conversation as we always do, and before the song even ended, he kissed me so passionately that it got us kicked right out of the dance. One song. That’s all we needed.

“If I remember correctly, that dance lasted a whole seventeen minutes before Mrs. Ferguson dragged us both out by our ears,” I inform him.

“And then I got to spend the rest of the night exploring the most beautiful thing that was ever put on this earth.”

His words make me blush. That’s the night I lost my virginity. The night I officially gave Ian all of me.

“I wish we could go back to that moment. When life was simple. And it was truly just us,” I confess. Because I never felt safer than in the arms of a person who’d laid down his life for me.

“How about we pretend we’re back at that dance, at the part where I kissed you senseless.” He smirks, reminding me of that young age when our lips met, and our souls melded together as one.

“I think we might get kicked out by you-know-who if you try anything funny, Mr. Whitman.”

“I think I’m willing to take my chances, Ms. Daniels.” And with that, he dips me, his lips hitting mine like raindrops hitting the dry ground after a drought. The explosion of moisture between our lips causes me to open, allowing his tongue inside my now watering mouth.

Tuning out the world around us, he kisses me. The beautiful moment goes on and on, even past all the cheers and hollers. Further past the tsking and barking of Amber, and just past seventeen minutes, where we get to actually finish out our dance. The song ends and he pulls his lips away from mine. It takes him bringing me back to a standing position to make me finally peel my eyelids open. His beautiful smiling face comes into full view once the lightness fades.

“Now that was a kiss.”

“And just think about how good the post-party is going to be now,” he brags.

Handsome, cocky bastard.

I
T’S A NO-BRAINER THAT
by the end of the night, I’m going to trip over this tail.

“All right, Pippa, this is the last house, so make it count,” Ian coaches as she runs up the steps past the glowing pumpkins and Halloween decorations.

We watch together as she stretches her little arms to reach the doorbell and away the ding sounds. She bounces back and forth on her little feet, waiting for Mrs. Crawford to open the door. Before the poor old lady has a chance to greet her, Pippa is shouting at the top of her lungs. “Tick-o-tweet!”

“Oh, my sweet child,” Mrs. Crawford greets her. “You sure do work for your candy now.”

Next to me, I hear a chuckle from Ian, or should I say Prince Eric. After a very intense battle with Pippa, I negotiated a truce where Ian agreed to compromise and dress up as Prince Eric instead of Pippa’s initial demand that all three of us spend Halloween as Disney princesses. Thankfully we’re at the last house on the block so our ears can take a siesta from Pippa’s screaming candy request.