Playing for Keeps (12 page)

“Where are you going? Maybe I’ll stop by.”

“To the Pink Flamingo.”

He groaned. “That’s such a pick up joint.”

“The better for Celeste to pick up guys. Besides, didn’t you tell me I needed to think about my own life? Well, I’ve been thinking I need a hot fling.”

Okay—where did that come from? I hadn’t been thinking anything of the sort.

“What?” Pete seemed really perturbed. His eyes were all stormy and his eyebrows were practically touching he was frowning so hard.

I rolled my eyes. Sometimes he took his role as brother-protector a little too far. “Don’t worry. I’ll use condoms.”

Was that the sound of his teeth grinding together?

Whatever. I turned to toss my hand towel into the side room where our laundry room was.

Pete wrapped his hand in my ponytail and tugged me to face him.

“What?” I scowled at him. He was taking this older brother thing too far. Thank goodness I didn’t actually have one. “I can take care of myself, but you can meet us there, if you’re so concerned about my safety.”

Pete shook his head but his grip tightened in my hair before he let go. “Grace, you’re the reason I have gray hair.”

“You have gray hair?” I tried pulling him down a little so I could see.

He shook his head and released me. “Later.”

I watched him leave, more than a little baffled. What was up with him? He was acting like he
liked
me, when we were just buddies.

I took the stairs two at a time all the way up to the bathroom. Making sure the door was locked I drew myself a bath and slipped in.

The universe was smiling on me (I was obviously spending too much time in Fawn’s company) because when I went down to get some dinner there wasn’t any sign of anyone. I happily ate by myself before I went back to my room to get ready for my night out.

I looked over my CD collection for the right music to get me into the partying mood. I decided on Prince. Nobody gets a party started like Prince. After gyrating for half an hour, I was ready to hit the town.

I skipped down the stairs and ran out the door.

By the time I walked into the Flamingo, it was barely past eight. I looked around even though I knew Celeste wouldn’t be there. She’d said eight, which in Celeste time meant eight thirty, nine on the outside. I didn’t mind. It gave me time to acclimate to the crowd.

Not that there was a crowd yet. The party never started till eleven. The only reason we arrived so early was because we could talk easily before it was really packed, and I loved dancing on an empty floor. Celeste said I was a closet exhibitionist.

I ordered a Corona from the bartender and went to an empty table to wait. Surprisingly, Celeste arrived minutes later.

“Hey.” She slipped into the booth and gave me a kiss before signaling a waiter.

“You’re early.”

“I love to keep you guessing.” She wrinkled her nose at my Corona. “No guy is going to pick you up if you’re swigging from a beer bottle.”

“That’s not what beer ads tell me.” I took a long, defiant swallow, exaggeratingly wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

Celeste batted her eyes at the waiter and got a couple napkins before he went to place her order. “Here. And wipe your face. You look like you’ve been in a heavy make out session with your lipstick smeared that way.”

“That might not be a bad impression to give.” I took them and dabbed around my lips.

“False advertising, baby.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “You have your hair down. And are you wearing mascara? What have you done with my best friend?”

“I wear makeup.” Sometimes. When the moon was full. And the planets were aligned just right.

The waiter came back and set her drink in front of her, making eyes at her to try to get her attention. But she just sat there and stared at me.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “What?”

She shook her head. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying to get laid.”

I remembered what I told Pete and blushed.

Celeste didn’t notice because she’d stuck her head under the table. I heard a muffled gasp and then she resurfaced. “You’re not wearing jeans.”

“I don’t always wear jeans.” She made it sound like I looked like a dockworker all the time.

“But you look hot.”

I didn’t know what the big deal was. My outfit was practical. My pants had all these little zippered pockets so I didn’t need to bring my purse. And the tank I wore, while tight, was chosen only for comfort. I got sweaty when I danced.

“You’re not wearing a
bra
.”

She said it so loudly the few people around us turned to look. I felt my face go up in flames. “Thanks for making that announcement.”

“It’s not like it was a mystery. Your nipples are at full salute.”

They are not.”

“Are too.” She took a sip of her pink frou-frou drink. “Just leave a man or two for me to dance with.”

I snorted. Men gravitated to Celeste like flies to honey. Guys loved her, and in her red leather mini skirt and glittery top with its plunging neckline, she wasn’t going to take any prisoners tonight.

Celeste drummed her fingers on the table in time to the music and smiled over my shoulder. “He’s pretty hot, don’t you think?”

Since her criteria wasn’t exactly stringent, I was afraid of what I’d find when I turned to look. I pursed my lips. Actually, he wasn’t too bad. “Someone should tell him the next time he buys a toupee that he should make sure it’s made of human hair and not rat.”

Celeste laughed. She set her drink down and wiggled out of the booth. “Come on. Let’s get the party started.”

Eager, I followed her onto the empty dance floor. At first, I had a hard time getting into the music. The beat was too harsh. Then the song changed and I felt my body lose itself in the rhythm. I closed my eyes and let loose.

The next few songs were perfect and I just kept dancing. By the time I opened my eyes again, the bar was pretty full and there were other people on the dance floor around me.

But no Celeste. I saw her sitting at our table with a man who looked like Pete.

I blinked. It
was
Pete. I felt a flutter in my belly. I hadn’t actually thought Pete would show up tonight. I mean, it may have crossed my mind once or twice while I got dressed, but I didn’t think he’d come.

Lifting my hair off my neck, I fanned myself as I made my way to them. They were laughing when I got to the booth. “Hey.”

Pete stood up to let me into his side. “Hey yourself. You looked like you were having fun.”

“What a surprise to see Pete here of all places, isn’t it, Gracie?”

I glanced at Celeste. Her expression told me she expected me to do a lot of explaining.

“Can I get you another drink, Grace?” Pete asked.

“Sure.” I tried not to notice how great Pete’s butt looked as he walked to the bar. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing you should notice on your best friend.

“Okay, quick.” Celeste had no such compulsions. Her eyes ate him up even as she whispered at me. “Tell me what’s going on. And don’t you dare tell me nothing.”

“I might have mentioned to him we were coming here tonight,” I said.

“And?”

“And that’s it.”

She studied me in silence before she made her proclamation. “He wants you.”

I laughed. “Right.”

“What’s he doing here then?”

“Getting a drink?”

“There are at least a dozen bars in walking distance of his apartment. He didn’t have to drive half an hour to come to this one.”

“Maybe he likes the ambiance.”

“Maybe he likes you.”

I didn’t get a chance to rebuff her because Pete arrived at that moment. He set our beers in front of us and slid in next to me.

I felt the heat of his body, and his scent wafted over me. He smelled great, like clean laundry and lime. For a moment I couldn’t breathe so I took a sip of my beer.

“I was just telling Gracie how much I love her top. Don’t you think it looks great on her, Pete?”

I flushed and gave Celeste a look. I knew what she was up to. Unfortunately, my nipples knew it too, and just the thought of Pete noticing them made them tighten into hard painful points.

Celeste shot me a triumphant look.

Why was she my best friend again?

“Grace looks great in everything,” Pete said diplomatically.

Celeste looked at him in exasperation. What did she expect? I kept telling her Pete and I were just friends.

But she didn’t give up. “I was telling her she should wear her hair down more often.”

Pete rested his arm on the back of the booth and toyed with a strand of my hair. “Her ponytails have a certain charm.”

Take that, Celeste. I stuck my tongue out at her.

Something tugged on my hair. I looked up at Pete and saw him hide a grin behind his beer bottle.

“Holy shit.” Celeste leaned across the table and grabbed my arm in a death grip. “Remember that guy I met at The Albatross?”

I sifted through the Rolodex of my mind. There were so many of them where she was concerned. “Maybe?”

“He’s here.”

I turned to see.

“
No
.” Her grip tightened. She was cutting off my circulation. “Don’t look. He’ll notice.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

“Well yeah, but only when I want him to.”

“And you don’t want him to right now?”

Celeste thought about that for a long second. “You’re right. I do.” She let go of me, shimmied out of the booth, and slinked over to the guy, who definitely noticed her. And, by the looks of things, he was very happy to see her.

Pete chuckled softly. “She’s amazing.”

“Or something.”

“I’ve always had a hard time seeing the two of you being friends.”

“Kind of like you and
River
.” I couldn’t hold back a small smirk.

“He hates being called that.”

“It’s better than a lot of names.”

“Like?”

“Thor.” I shrugged when he cocked his eyebrow. “With a father named Leif, Thor isn’t that inconceivable.”

The Reflex by Duran Duran started playing. I loved that song. I pushed at Pete’s shoulder. “Move. I want to dance.”

He got up and held his hand out to me. I expected him to let go and get back in the booth after I was on my feet. Instead he kept it firmly in his and led me to the dance floor.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“You wanted to dance.”

Unfortunately, everyone else did too. The dance area was suddenly packed, a testament to the power of Duran Duran. Pete found a pocket of space and faced me.

I couldn’t remember ever dancing with Pete before. I didn’t even know he could dance.

But, oh boy, could he. Sinuous and graceful. I stood there in stunned awe before I shut my gaping mouth and joined him.

Usually I danced alone. Sometimes, if a man asked to dance with me, I’d say sure, but I closed my eyes and, in my mind, I still danced by myself.

With Pete, I was right there in the moment. My eyes were wide open and he and I were connected in a way too scary to think about. So I stopped thinking and just danced.

I lost track of how many songs we danced to. Pete just kept going, and I wasn’t about to stop.

Until a salsa came on. I stopped dancing and fanned myself, about to walk off the floor, when Pete grabbed my hand and pulled me to him.

He closed the distance between us and, so I could hear him above the loud bar, said into my ear, “I danced with you. It’s your turn to dance with me.”

I was about to protest when he flawlessly moved us into the dance.

He went slowly, exaggerating the steps till I caught on. But once I got it we started to
dance
.

Masterful was the only way to describe Pete. He moved me in ways I didn’t know I could move. I felt like that girl in Dirty Dancing, and Pete was my Patrick Swayze. People moved aside as he spun me across the floor. I threw back my head and laughed I was having such much fun.

I grinned like a fool at Pete to show him how much I was enjoying myself. He grinned back, his teeth gleaming white in the dim light of the bar.

He pulled me closer, our entwined hands between us. I felt his knuckles brush the side of my breast and suddenly my body went on red alert, tight and hot. Ready.

I looked into his eyes, silently asking what was going on. I couldn’t really see them—it was too dark—but I could feel his response to my question and it knocked the breath out of me.

We both froze right there. People jostled us but neither of us moved. With a finger, he followed a drop of sweat down my throat to the edge of my tank top. I wondered if he was going to follow it down into my cleavage.

He didn’t. Instead, he lowered his head and touched his lips to mine. Once, twice, so gently I would have sworn I imagined it if my eyes hadn’t been open. Then he wrapped his hand in my hair and laid a big one on me.

I swear my toes curled.

It lasted seconds and an eternity at the same time. I ran my tongue over my lips, looking for another taste of him.

He groaned and dragged me off the dance floor. Signaling the waiter for two beers, he guided me into the booth and followed after me.

I sat there, shocked, not knowing what to say. A first for me.

“Grace.”

I looked at him and blushed. What if he thought I threw myself at him? What if he only kissed me because he felt sorry for me?

“Grace.” He tipped my chin up, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “We need to talk.”

I winced. “How about if we skip the talk and just pretend that never happened?”

“I can’t do that.”

The waiter set down two Coronas on the table. Pete paid him before facing me again.

I wanted to down the whole bottle at once. Oblivion seemed ideal at the moment. But Pete leaned closer to me, his eyes never wavering from mine.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

He froze. “It shouldn’t have?”

“No.” I vigorously shook my head. “It was all my fault.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“Yes. Yes, I’m sure it was.”