Hide and Seek

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"A peace offering." A glass appears in front of me, attached to the arm of the very suit-clad man I've been hopelessly trying to forget. His voice washes over me, tingling like the bubbles floating in the champagne.

I take the glass, careful to avoid brushing my fingers against his. Lifting it to my lips, I snap my gaze to his only to catch him watching my mouth. A healthy does of feminine pride runs through me knowing that no matter what he says, I still have the power to affect him. At least a little. But it's really the mate connection talking. It's not what he actually wants.

Well, that's a mood killer... 

Our eyes lock as I empty the contents of the glass. I tremble under the weight of his stare, but I can't get a good read on him. It seems his mask is back in place.

"We should dance."

I can't hide my surprise. Dance? Him and I so close I can feel his breath, feel his hands on me? "That's not a good idea."

He stands, towering over me, and my eyes lock on his long nimble fingers as they secure his jacket together. I've never wanted to be a button so badly. Damn. I think that last glass of champagne was a mistake. 

"The Maid of Honor and Best Man always share a dance." I look up at him from my seat, and up and up until I feel a bit dizzy. Choosing to avoid his eyes, I watch his lips move instead. "Its tradition." 

I stare at the hand he offers me, trying to both figure out if he's being serious and if I want to take the risk of being so close to him. "I don't think-

His grip is warm and firm, halting whatever I meant to say. I blink and suddenly we're standing chest to chest. I swear I feel his breath against my temple, almost like a kiss, but I'm sure I'm imagining it and before I can analyze it, I'm being led to the dance floor.

Hands at my waist, smoothing up and down my back. His heartbeat hard and fast where my head is pressed to his chest. I'm dizzy and I'm no longer sure its because of the champagne. His touch and the confident way he guides us around the floor is both something like a dream and an an emotional roller coster ride. 

"What do you want, Jeff?" I whisper, lifting my head from his chest. "Why are you doing this?" My voice cracks and he flinches. It would go unnoticed by any onlookers but up close I don't miss it. 

"Why am I-why am I doing this? You know what I want Jamie." He growls, shifting a hand to the back of my head where I feel him tangle his fingers through my hair and I gasp, a breathy inhalation that makes his eyes go black.

"You're wrong." I curse the tremble in my voice and the sting of tears in my eyes. I feel a headache coming on, and my shoulders sag in defeat and exhaustion. "I have no idea what you want anymore."

His hands cup my face, forcing me to look at him but I close my eyes tight against what I fear he's going to say. "I want what's mine, Princess."

Instead of jerking out of his grasp like I did in the church, I laugh. It's a bitter, hollow sound so unlike me that I almost don't realize it came out of me. I'm too emotionally drained and admittedly drunk to deal with this. 

"I'm not yours, Jeff" I sigh, lifting a hand to my now pounding head. Stepping back out of his hold is made easier by the way his arms drop down to his sides. "You made damn sure of that." 

*** *** ***

Brooke's laugh brings me back from reliving last night's memories. "I'd never seen Jamie act as enthusiastic as when she won the bouquet toss!"