I tilted my head. “Do you not approve of me with Hudson?”
Gwen shrugged. “I don’t give a flying fig about you and Hudson. It’s love I don’t approve of. I get it enough with Nor—” She stopped, catching herself before she finished her sister’s name. “Anyway. Seems there’s love all around. I’m over it.”
She didn’t know I was already aware of Norma and Boyd’s fling. I didn’t bother to tell her. It was her anti-romance attitude that intrigued me. Did she feel abandoned by her sister since she’d started fooling around with her assistant? Knowing almost nothing about Gwen, it was hard to say.
Then it hit me. “Ooh, Gwen’s got a heartache story.” Things were clicking in place. For the first time that evening, I felt slightly interested in something other than myself. “Is that why you were so eager to leave Eighty-Eighth Floor?”
Her eyes glossed over, whether from memory or alcohol, I wasn’t sure. She opened her mouth to say something. Then her focus returned. “Nice try. I’m drunk, but I’m not that drunk.” She took another swallow of her Wild Turkey and glanced at my half-full glass of champagne. “Speaking of which, why don’t you join me on the intoxicatrain?”
“Not much of a drinker.” With my low tolerance, I was already feeling a little tipsy, and I planned on being sober when I talked to Hudson.
“Hmm.” She looked me over as if sizing me up. Then her attention went to the crowd tearing it up on the dance floor. She took another swallow of her drink. “I heard you saying something about addiction to Liesl. Are you a former alky?”
I laughed. She was as curious about me as I was about her. Perhaps if I spilled my story, she’d spill hers. Except at the moment, bonding wasn’t exactly on my priority list. “Uh-uh. Not happening. You have your secrets, I have mine.”
Gwen smiled. “I’m good with that.”
“So this is where the party is.” David leaned over the back of the sofa between our heads.
“Ha ha. Sarcasm. Nice.” Gwen finished off her glass and set it on the table next to her.
David ignored Gwen and turned his attention to me. “This night is supposed to be my last chance with my favorite people. And my most favorite people is over here moping. What’s up with that?”
His reference to me as his favorite people made me tense only slightly. He was on his way out of town. No need to worry about his intentions.
And he was right. This night was about him, not me. “Shit, I’m sorry, David. This is supposed to be a party, and I’m crashing it with my bad mood.”
He crossed around in front of the sofa and sat on the low table in front of us. “Why are you in a bad mood, anyway? You were so…peppy…the last two days.” His brows lifted, hopeful. “Trouble in paradise?”
It was sweet how he never stopped trying. “I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t think so.” Though telling Hudson about my lapse in self-control might alter that.
Why hadn’t he called yet? And did Jordan really know how the NYC legal system worked?
I bit my lip with worry. “There is the fact that I could be arrested soon.” It was easier to let info slip with David than Gwen.
David glanced questioningly at Gwen. “Don’t look at me,” she said with a shrug. “She doesn’t tell me jack shit.”
He wrapped his hands around the edges of the table on either side of him. “I think I need to hear more.”
For half a second I considered spilling it all. But that wasn’t fair to David. He’d been a good manager and a good friend. Was this any way to send him off?
“No, you really don’t need to hear more. Forget I said anything. Please. I’m being melodramatic.” Hopefully.
“Let me know if I can do anything?” That was David. Never the type to push or pry. At one time, I’d fooled myself into thinking that could be enough for me. That he’d be safer. That he was the guy that would keep me sane.
Now I knew differently. Though Hudson pushed and pried and drove me crazy, he was the nearest thing to clarity I knew.
That was why I needed him so desperately at the moment.
But sitting around lamenting his absence wasn’t going to bring him to me. And it was a hell of a lousy way to say goodbye to my friend.
Putting on the happiest face I could muster, I set my glass down. “You know what you can do, David? You can cheer me up.” I stood up and nodded toward the floor. “Let’s dance, shall we?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Instead of joining the rest of the crowd in the center of the floor, we stuck to an empty corner. A few minutes into the dance mix of David Guetta’s Titanium, I felt better. It had been forever since I’d let myself loose, since I’d stopped worrying and fretting and just lived in the moment. I closed my eyes and let the beat overtake me, let my feet and hips move as they liked. Sweat gathered at my brow and my breath got short, but I was alive—alive in the way that only the club made me. Soon my anxiousness dissolved and all I was thinking about was the present—the music, the lights flashing around us, the friend standing in front of me. It was exactly what I needed.
I wasn’t sure how long we’d been dancing or how many songs had played before the DJ faded into a slow song. The club never played slow songs. I looked to David, my brow raised.
“Someone must have requested it.” He held his hand out for me. “Let’s not waste it, shall we?”
A voice in my head nagged that it was a bad idea. If David had asked for the song to be played—and I was certain he had—then he’d meant it for me. He’d meant it as a means to get me in his arms. It would be wrong—I had a boyfriend that I loved with my entire being. Hudson wouldn’t like it, and that was reason enough to not engage. Every impulse in my body said to walk away.
Except there was a flicker of emotion in my chest that I couldn’t ignore—a need for closure, perhaps, or a touch of melancholy for what once was or what could have been. Or maybe it was simply the alcohol and the adrenaline and the need for someone to hold me after all the stress and anxiety of the day.
And Hudson wasn’t there, so what could one dance hurt?
Without another thought, I took David’s hand and let him pull me into his arms. He was warm in a way that I’d forgotten. Like a giant teddy bear. He wasn’t nearly as cut or as trim as Hudson, but he was strong and easy to fall into.
I rested my head on his shoulder as we swayed together. Closing my eyes, I listened to the words of the song and relaxed into our final embrace. The singer was familiar, but I couldn’t remember his name. He sang to his love, telling her that she was in his veins, that he could not get her out.
They were words that made me think of Hudson. He was so deeply imprinted on me that he’d seeped through my skin and into my veins. He was my life force, each pulse of my heart sending another shock of love through my body.
Was this how David felt about me?
A strange mixture of panic and sorrow and a little bit of contentment washed over me as I realized that it was exactly how David felt about me. If I had any doubt, it was cleared when he began singing the words at my ear. “I cannot get you out.”
I stopped moving with him and leaned back to look at his eyes. He knew, right? Knew that this was wrong, that I was spoken for? That I didn’t feel the same way about him?
If he did know, he didn’t care. He pressed forward, taking my lips in his before I knew what was happening. His kiss was shocking and unwelcomed. Immediately I pushed him away.
The sadness in David’s eyes pierced through me. I knew that depth of heartache. It tore me up to know I was the cause of his.
There was nothing I could do for it but shake my head and bite back tears.