Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
You just held me through the fight
Now I see it so much clearer
You’re my reason, you’re my light
You’re my anchor in the storm.”
“Wow,” Stephen says. “I’ve never heard that song before.”
“It’s probably an original. Angie told me that Jesse writes most of the band’s songs. My guess is that Brianna asked him to write something special for Angie and Jason.” I sigh. “It really captures their story.”
When the song is over, Jesse grabs the mic again. “Let’s invite the parents of the bride up to join in the dance, as well as the maid of honor and best man.”
Marjorie and Bryce join on the floor, as well as Sage and Henry.
Sage and Henry look gorgeous together, his blondness and her darkness.
I can’t keep my eyes off Henry. He’s smiling, though not at his sister. He’s looking toward Angie and Jason and smiling.
And I believe it’s a genuine smile. It’s a smile I’ve seen only rarely. A smile I’d like to see more.
Once that song is over, the band begins another slow song, and Bryce takes Angie for the father-daughter dance. Marjorie dances with Jason—I guess because his mother isn’t here anymore.
It’s a beautiful sight, and everyone looks ecstatic.
I glance to Henry, who’s retaken his seat at the other end of our long table.
When the parents’ dance is over, Jesse takes the mic once more. “Okay, folks. Now we’re going to liven things up a little, and we invite everyone to the dance floor!”
Stephen grabs my hand. “Shall we?”
I nod. He is my date after all. It’s not his fault that he bores me to tears or that I’m hung up on someone else.
Hell, all this time he’s seen right through me.
Which is good, actually. He probably won’t try for another kiss tonight, which suits me just fine.
I follow him to the dance floor. The song is faster, so he doesn’t take my hand or anything. We just move to the beat. Stephen is actually a really good dancer. He moves to the music and looks good while doing it. I love to dance. I can dance all night long, so I mirror Stephen’s moves, and pretty soon I’m smiling. Dancing and music always make me smile, even if I’m not dancing with the man I want.
Already I’m planning to apologize to Stephen when he leaves. I’ve been a lousy date. Both times leaving to make love—well, fuck—with another man.
A man who isn’t offering me anything other than a moment in time.
But damn.
I’d say it’s been worth it. Ten minutes with Henry has been better than the longest lovemaking session I’ve ever had, which was over an hour with a guy—not unlike Stephen, I bet—who was into Tantric sex.
It was great, but also like Stephen, he bored me to tears. That was back in college, and he wasn’t a massage therapist. He was a grad student studying movement awareness.
That should have been my first clue.
I’ll bet every dollar I have that Stephen is into Tantric sex as well.
After three songs, we’ve both worked up quite a sweat.
“Take a break?” I ask.
Stephen nods. “Yeah. Time for some fluids.”
We head back to the table, and I walk by Henry. I don’t look at him. I keep my eyes focused on Stephen.
We return to our seats and gulp down some water. I also finish the last of my champagne.
“You’re a great dancer,” I say.
“You as well.” He shimmies his shoulders. “That was fun.”
I smile. “It was.” The first actual fun I’ve had with Stephen. “Hey, I’ve got a question.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you… Are you into Tantric sex?”
He laughs.
“Was that funny?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “The question itself isn’t funny. It’s the fact that you asked.”
“Why?”
He furrows his eyebrows. “Because you’ve already made it abundantly clear that we’re not going to end up in any kind of sexual situation.”
He’s not wrong.
But I press on. “Are you going to answer me?”
“Why would you think I’d be into that?”
“Please. You’re into everything else that’s all Zen and weird. You’ve probably got a gong in your bedroom and essential oils categorized by chakra.”
He grins, slow and amused. “Okay, that’s fair. But no gong. Just a sound bowl. And I don’t categorize the oils. I just feel which one calls to me.”
I can’t help a laugh at that. “Jesus.”
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain at a wedding,” he says, mockingly solemn. “Bad karma.”
I roll my eyes so hard they nearly stick. “So that’s a yes? About the Tantric sex, I mean?”
He shrugs, nonchalant. “I’ve read about it. Practiced a little. It’s not just about sex, though. It’s about connection. Presence. Energy flow.”
I rub at my forehead. “God, everything with you is energy.”
He shrugs. “Well, everything is energy.”
I cross my arms. “And what exactly do you do with that energy? Prolonged eye contact until your partner has an out-of-body experience?”
He leans in slightly. “You joke, but it’s real. When you slow everything down, when you breathe together, touch with intention—”