Okay, so this might seem really off, but normally, I was not good at partying. This fact had been somewhat askew in the past couple of months, considering how I'd met Grayson, but I was relieved to see that I was still indeed a terrible partier.
"Care to dance?" Grayson asked, holding out his hand.
"I broke my ankle last Tuesday," I said before thinking. It was my go-to response, one that normally worked. Except I'd forgotten that Grayson wasn't just a stranger and that I did in fact live with him.
He gave me a look. "I was with you last Tuesday. It was fine."
"Ah, right. Sorry. Used to just lying so I don't have to participate," I said sheepishly.
"Wow. You don't want to dance with me?" he asked, wounded beyond belief.
"Wow. You don't want to dance with me?" he asked, wounded beyond belief.
I rolled my eyes. "I do. You'd just be surprised how many times Kylie and Nina have tried to drag me into 'fun' and I have to make something up."
"Something tells me I wouldn't be all that surprised," he said, grinning.
"Right. Anyways, yes I'll dance with you," I said, taking his extended hand.
Grayson pulled me to a safe section of the dance floor, away from Laura and away from anyone he knew who would end up talking to us. Feeling like he deserved some form of explanation for my behavior, I sheepishly said, "I've never danced with anyone before."
"That's okay, it's not hard. I'll teach you," he said, still being his kind, forgiving self. Sometimes it bugged me that he was this nice.
Nervous, I stepped closer to him and felt his hand fall to my waist, a soft pressure over the silk of my dress. His free hand gently grasped mine, his fingers locking next to mine. A faint warmth hummed between our palms, and I couldn't help but be confused. I don't know why this was suddenly much more than I'd signed up for. It's a dance, just a dance, yet I was feeling like someone had put me in a toaster.
"What do I do with this hand?" I whispered, concerned. I have two hands. That's a hand too many.
"My shoulder or chest," he said, thankfully not laughing at me.
I quickly chose shoulder and let him push me back. "Then we just sort of go with it."
I went with it for about twenty seconds. The tension quickly became thick and I couldn't look him in the eyes. How do you dance with someone who you've accidentally married?
"Jackie, it's okay, I'm not going to bite," he said, smiling down at me.
"You might," I mumbled, still focusing on not tripping.
"No, I won't. This may surprise you, but I'm not a cannibal."
"You might be."
Grayson sighed. "Jacks, I promise, I'm not. Besides, dancing is supposed to be fun!"
"Your mother has made sure that this is not fun," I pointed out helpfully. "This is the dustiest, most classical music I've ever heard."
"It's slow, so no one gets tired. Pretty genius, isn't it?" he said.
I shrugged. "Or just boring."
"Well at least we get to hang out," he said, still helping me dance. I mostly followed his lead, trailing in his steps.
"You dance pretty," I said, finally looking up at him. Yes, I was slightly jealous, especially since I'd grown two left feet in the past ten minutes, but it wasn't like there was anything I could do about his grace and elegance.
He smiled. "Thanks. I had lessons when I was little."
"Poor little you."
"Not that bad. Besides, I learned enough to teach you. So we can dance together," he said.
"That's nice. I doubt we got a first dance," I said, mentally making a note to ask Kylie. Lucky girl had all her memories from that fateful night.
"I don't know, maybe we did. Seems like something we'd think of," Grayson said optimistically.
"I hope so. We're kind of cute. Sometimes," I said. I was getting tired. It had to be past my bedtime of about eleven o'clock.
"We are. Jacks, are you falling asleep on me?" he teased.
"No," I yawned. "Seriously, I'm fine. Keep talking."
"About what?" he asked, still holding me close and slowly moving me around our little corner of the ballroom.
"I don't know. The wedding? The one in January?" I offered drowsily.
"Okay. Um...I told you mother offered to book our honeymoon, right?"
"I don't remember. She offered?" I asked, racking my brain for such a fact.
"Well, more forcefully did so. She got us an all-inclusive trip to Tuvalu. Is that okay?" Grayson asked worriedly.
"Fine, fine. It sounds lovely. Too bad we won't get to go," I sighed.
"Actually, I talked to the lawyer. Apparently he'll need a few days to figure things out after the wedding, so we will be going," he said apologetically.
Suddenly I felt wide awake. "We are?" I asked, trying to quell my rising panic.
Grayson was quick to squeeze my hand. "Hey, no, it's okay. I figured it could just be a fun trip, a mini vacation before you head home. As friends."
"That...actually sounds really nice," I admitted, relaxing again.
He smiled and half hugged me, using the arm around my waist to pull me into his embrace. I dropped my head against his chest, murmuring, "Thank you."
"No problem, you're a natural," he said, and I realized he thought I was referring to my dancing.
"No—I mean, yes, thank you for the lesson," I stammered, flustered. "But I meant thank you for being so understanding all the time."
"Jacks, you're my friend. We have each other's backs. I don't even have to ask to know you have mine," he said. He was right.
"I do have your back. Except not right now—I think I'm too tired right now," I said, and I realized our hug had turned into me leaning on him for physical support.
He bent his head and kissed my forehead. "Let's get you to bed then."
Grayson led me up the stairs, his arm around my shoulders. Sleepy, I simply flopped onto the bed face first.
"You can't sleep in your pretty dress, it'll get wrinkled," he said in concern.
I grunted. He took it upon himself to undo my heels, which did make my feet hurt less. I felt the mattress squish off to my left and his gentle fingers moving through my hair.
"You used a lot of bobby pins," he noted.
"Yeah," I mumbled, my face still in the comforter. The bobby pins felt like they had happened so many days ago.
Grayson worked slowly and carefully, never pulling and making sure he got every pin. Finally I felt my hair drop, the bun melted and leaving my brown locks limp around my shoulders.
"Okay, here are your pajamas," I heard him say softly.
I rolled over, tossing my arm over my forehead. "I don't want to."
"Yes, you do, they're the fuzzy ones," he coaxed. I did want the fuzzy ones. So I took them with a grateful grunt and shuffled into the bathroom to change.
When I reentered the bedroom, I was faced with a horrible conclusion. "Grayson!"
He looked up in alarm. "What?"
"I'm drenched in perfume, I have to shower," I said, miserable.
He smiled and came over to give me a hug. "I won't tell anyone if you don't wash off the perfume," he murmured.
"But your sheets will smell like flowers," I argued tiredly.
"I don't mind, it's a nice perfume," he told me gently. "Now crawl into bed, okay?"
"You sure?" I asked—crawling into bed anyway.
"I'm sure," he whispered, pulling the blankets up over me. "Go to sleep, Jacks."
"What about you?" I asked. Surely he had to be at least a little tired.
He smiled and brushed my hair back from my face with one hand. "I'll be in in a minute, I have to brush my teeth."
I didn't go to sleep. Instead I counted the little specks on the ceiling while Grayson brushed his teeth. Twenty-three.
When he saw that I was awake, he laughed a little and climbed under the covers next to me. "Go to sleep, silly. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," I sighed, nestling into my pillows.
Finally, the end of a long day. But tomorrow—tomorrow would be amazing.
Because tomorrow we were finally escaping.