Whiskey Kisses (13 page)

“I’m late,” I muter as I struggle to put on my shoes while hopping down the hall. No time for breakfast. I’ll hit Starbucks on my way to the—

I spot my purse on the table, unzipped and splayed out. Funny. I don’t remember leaving it like that. I head over and pluck out my wallet and find that too unzipped. Now I for damn sure know I wouldn’t leave it like that. I peer inside only to find it empty. Crap. I had forty-five dollars left from Mr. Let-Me-Sniff-Your-Feet, and now it’s up and disappeared.

“Donny?”

A groan comes from the living room. I stagger over in a blind rage and bump into the moron himself.

“Did you take money out of my wallet?” At this point it’s a bit of a rhetorical question.

His hair is rumpled, his eyes half closed. He doesn’t say a word, a sure sign of guilt in the first degree.

God. What is it with my mother and idiots? Does she require they come with some pedigree that specifically dictates they’ve been inbred? Must they be derelict fugitives to gain entry into her bedroom?

“Okay, look. I’m going to be really nice about this.” Lie number one. “Give it back, and I’ll forget it ever happened.” Lie number two. “And I’ll never mention it to my mother.” Lie number three—the most delicious of them all.

“Can’t.” His breath blasts over me, thick with vodka. “Spent it.”

Gah! “I can’t believe you’re not even trying to cover it up!”

“Take it easy. It’s bad enough I had to hear your mother yapping all night about some big celebration down at that dance club you pretend to run. I had to do something. If it makes you feel better, I can tell her the flowers were from the both of us.”

Flowers? He blew my hard-earned foot fondling money on dying roses? That’s about as nonsensical as liquor at this point.

“You owe me forty-five dollars.” I try to step around him, but he blocks my path.

His eyes steady over my body, probing with his gaze as tactile as if he were feeling me up with his fingers. “You up for earning it back?”

“You wish.” That’s it. He’s history. “Get out of my way.” I bolt around him just as he slaps me over the ass. “Get
out
you asshole! Get out before I come home, or the next thing you’ll find in my purse will be your balls!” My voice knifes through the morning air with the promise of a dull razor. “And don’t ever come back!”

I run all the way to the car and lock myself inside. My heart plows up into my throat. A cold sweat erupts all over my body.

“Shit.” I pant as I start up the car.

Forty-five bucks says he’ll be out by nightfall.

And then my mother will be alone again.

It’s always because of me.

And not once have I ever regretted it.

The dance studio buzzes all day with the pre-party hype. Roxy shows up with far more cupcakes than I ever imagined.

“They look and smell glorious.” I moan over the pink confections, and an image of Holt and his searing kisses comes to mind.

“It’s my treat.” She grins at the idea. “I want to thank the two people in my life who helped mold me into the person that I am.”

“Aw.” I run my hand over her dark curls. “I don’t know whether to hug you or write an apology to your mother.”

“Get over here.” She pulls me in. Her boyfriend, Cole, gives a nod from behind as he hauls in more boxes. It’s him I should write a thank you, too. He sort of got the ball rolling in the kisses department for me and Holt. A private smile creeps onto my lips because lately whenever I think of Holt a silly grin wants to take up residency on my face.

Baya and Laney are here along with their respective fiancés, and we’re quick to decorate the studio with crepe paper and the cardboard cutouts of ballet slippers I managed to excavate from the party supply store. Before I know it, throngs of bodies flood through the door along with my mother. Here she is with her signature fuchsia lipstick, her matching black Electric Lights Dance Studio T-shirt with the hot pink lettering. I watch as she works the room. Her smile never leaves her face. The entire first hour is peppered with her laughter, and it breaks my heart to think I might have knocked anther deadbeat boyfriend out of her life. Not that he should have ever been in it to begin with.

“Hey”—I lean into Laney—“you should find someone for Mom.” The two bozos she set me up with flash through my mind. “On second thought, maybe she’s not so bad on her own.”

“Are you kidding? She’s a magnet for predators and felons.”

I lock eyes with her a second. She said predator, and I wonder why she chose that word.

“You okay?” She bumps her hip into mine.

Holt walks in, and my entire person breathes a sigh of relief. My heart goes off like a bomb. My skin breaks out in a prickling heat. He smiles in my direction, and his grin lights up the entire room like a flash. Holt looks like a Ralph Lauren model with his inky dark jeans, his button down baby blue shirt that makes his skin glow.

“Better than okay.” My stomach bottoms out at the sight of him as I meet him halfway. “You’re here.” I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him in. It feels natural like this, and not a single part of me is concerned with the wandering eyes we might be attracting, namely my mother’s.

“I’m not one to miss a good party.” He brushes his cheek close to my neck and takes a deep breath. “Hope you don’t mind, but once my brother mentioned he was headed over I didn’t want to miss out. Besides, Annie needed a ride.” He gives a sheepish smile.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” I say, fighting the urge to kiss him.

Laney comes over and frowns as Holt and I part ways.

“All right everybody.” Mom claps her way to the center of the room. “First, I’d like to thank everybody here for coming out today and helping us celebrate twenty wonderful years at the ELDS.” Wild applause breaks out. She glances around the studio brimming with old and new students. “As I look around at this room full of people, I can’t help but think that each and every one of you contributed to the success of the Electric Lights Dance Studio. You built this place and all of the memories it stands on, literally step-by-step.” Her eyes glitter with tears, and for the first time in my entire life I watch as a ball of liquid emotion rolls down her cheek.

Laney leans in. “
God
—she’s human.”

“I want you all to know that I love and appreciate each and every one of you,” Mom continues through tears. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” She gives a hard sniff as another deafening applause breaks out. Her hands bat through the air until the noise dies down. “And, on that note, I’d like to invite up my daughter, my saving grace—Izzy, why don’t you come here.” She motions me over. I give a quick glance to Laney. I feel like crap when my mother treats me like an only child. “Izzy”—Mom comes over and pulls me in—“for the last several years you’ve been running this place like a pro, and I wracked my brain trying to think of how I can repay you. All I could come up with was this.” She leans in and gives me a heartfelt hug.

Tears blur my vision as she holds on tight. I can’t remember the last time my mother offered an embrace.

“I love you, mommy,” I whisper just for her.

“I know,” she whispers back.

I wipe down my face and call the lead dance team to the front. They step forward carefully unfurling a banner that reads
Thank you Ms. Bobbie for twenty fantastic years!
A colorful montage of signatures are scrawled out all over the sign—hundreds of sentiments from students old and new.

Tears roll down my mother’s cheeks, in tandem, as she takes it all in.

My mother is a good person who deserves all of the good things life has to offer. I hope one day she finds someone deserving of her company, and, until that day happens, I’ll make sure she always has me. I don’t want her to ever be alone.

I look up, and Holt catches my eye.

I don’t want to be alone either.

Once the studio clears out, Holt offers to help with the clean up. Laney and her friends took down most of the decorations before they left. Bryson took Annie home, so Holt and I have the studio to ourselves.

Holt dips his chin and looks at me from across the room like he’s ready to pounce, and, holy hell, I’m not too sure I’d stop him if he tried. His eyes are on fire, and his smile is most definitely lewd. I’m liking the direction this is heading—a whole hell of a lot.

“Nice party, kitten.” Holt strides over like a man on a mission.

“You know what I’ve always wanted to do?” I turn it to the last song on my phone and lock it in on a loop. Music filters through the air—a moody lyrical piece, rife with romantic implications.

“Test out the speakers when there’s no one around?” He makes his way to me with his eyes glazed over, his lips already parting. Holt holds out a hand, and I take it.

“No, this.” I wrap my arms around his waist, and he’s quick to do the same. I’ve missed this with him since the moment we parted ways last week. I don’t bother telling him this is my second slow dance with a man in my entire life and that he’s that man.

“You’re pretty good at this.” He dips his face into my neck and unabashedly takes a deep breath.

“Why are you always sniffing me?” I hold back the giggle ricocheting in my chest.

“Why do you always smell so damn good?” He lands a cushioned kiss over my neck, and I pull back. “Sorry.” He blinks a quick smile.

“Don’t be. In fact, put your lips back there.” I take a deep breath and feel his body crushing over mine. “I was enjoying that.”

Holt complies without a word, and his mouth lands over my neck in a series of butter soft kisses trailing up to my ear.

“Are you feeling this?” he whispers.

“God, yes—it feels amazing.”

“I mean us.” He tucks the words hot in my ear.

I freeze for a moment before forcing my muscles to move in time with his. There. I’ve done it. I’ve toyed with his emotions, and now I’ve landed us in this questionable place.

“Holt”—I pull back—“I can’t date you.”

“Why not?” His Adam’s apple rises and falls as if a tragedy were about to unfold, and I think it is.

“Because.” I shrug, trying to lighten the mood. “I’d have to dye my hair blonde and outfit my wardrobe with skanky clothes. Which I may or may not already own.” I bite over my lip as if I were trying to shake up his Levis. “Plus, I’d have to dust off my bombshell bra, and that thing really cuts into my back.” I shake my head as if this were a real issue, and, even though it is, I don’t think I’ve managed to add any levity to the situation. Holt wants something more, and I think I do, too.

My mother’s banner catches my eye. The night of my eighteenth birthday flashes through my mind, unexpected as a grease fire. I can hear his taunting voice. Feel his hands pressing in, snaking all over my body and no matter how hard I try to shake the image out of my head, it won’t leave me alone.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.” I pull back. “You have to go.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “I have to lock up.” I bolt for my phone and pluck the wire from it, filling the room with a deafening silence.

“Whoa—I’m sorry.” He takes a step toward me, and I back away without meaning to. “Izzy.” His eyes fill with heartbreak as he takes me in.

“It’s not you. It’s me, Holt. I’m damaged—nothing or no one can ever fix that. You deserve someone whole and happy.” Tears come uninvited, and I’m unable to blink them away. “You deserve someone who’ll make you happy.”

“
You
make me happy, Iz.” He holds out his hand. His lips fill in a deep shade of crimson. His face turns ashen. “Let me do this with you. We can get help. We can find someone you can talk to.” He pleads with tears of his own brimming to the surface.

“Please, just get out.” I spin around.

“Iz, you can’t mean that.” He places his hand on my shoulder, and I prove unmovable. “We can push through this. I want to help you. Let me be there for you.”

I don’t say a word. Holt drips his hand down my back, slow, hot as lava, and eventually his footsteps drift toward the exit.

“I’m still here for you, Iz.”

I wait until I can’t hear his footsteps anymore. The sound of an engine roaring to life fills the silence, and I fall to the floor in a heap of tears.