Beside me, Sylvia laughs. “Sounds like your brother got you the perfect present.”
I flash Dallas a smile. “He knows me well. I love this band.”
“You’re lucky,” she says. “I adore my brother, but as far as birthday presents go, he has no imagination whatsoever. He usually gets me a Starbucks gift card. Or wine.”
“Both good choices,” I say as we follow Damien through the crowd toward the stage. “How about you?” I ask Nikki. “Good sibling presents or crappy sibling presents?”
“My sister died when I was a teenager,” she says, and I freeze, because it’s really hard to walk after putting your foot so firmly in your mouth.
“It’s okay,” she says, squeezing my hand. “You couldn’t know, and the truth is she always gave great presents, but never something I thought I wanted. The best was my camera. It’s what got me started with my hobby. I love it.”
“And now you have a sister-in-law,” Sylvia says, indicating herself. “And I have absolutely no idea what to get you for a present ever.” She meets my eyes. “You probably already know this, growing up in the family you did, but it’s really hard to buy a gift for people who can afford to buy themselves whatever they want.”
“That’s Damien,” Nikki says, laughing. “I’m still getting used to having money in the bank.”
They’re both talking so casually and openly that I forget about my faux pas and relax again, taking the time to look around the space. We’ve passed into a roped off area that is apparently only for holders of VIP tickets. According to Damien, there will be more room to move in this area which is good news as that means there will be room to dance. I can already tell that the general admission area is going to be so jammed that the crowd will be doing well simply to sway.
I suggest to Dallas that we go get a drink, but that’s handled for us as well. Damien taps something into his phone, and seconds later a jean-clad waitress brings us all a drink. Honestly, it’s all pretty awesome, and I break protocol long enough to grab Dallas’s hand, then rise up onto my tiptoes so that I can whisper to him. “Thanks,” I say. “Even before the band comes on, I can honestly say this is the best birthday ever.”
I see Jackson pushing in through the crowd and only then realize that he’d stepped away. I glance at Sylvia, and must look confused, because she leans in to tell me that he’d gone to a quieter area to call their nanny and check on their kids, a four-year-old daughter and a three-month-old son.
“Everything’s good,” he says, kissing her temple. “I caught them right before Ronnie went down, and she said to tell you she loves you.”
Sylvia smiles wide, and I feel a tightening in my gut. I want that. I want a family. I want kids.
I want Dallas.
And I don’t want to hide.
I turn toward him—though I don’t know what I intend to say. It’s not as if I’m going to jump up on stage and announce our love. I guess I just want to look at him, this man with whom I share such a vexing love.
I’m about to pull him aside on some pretense when the opening band comes on, so I forcefully push my melancholy aside—tonight is about being festive, after all—and let myself get swept away in the music.
The VIP section fills up quickly, but there’s still room to dance, and I’m doing so much of that I’m slick with sweat, even though I’ve dressed simply in a cotton halter and low-rise jeans. I’m drinking vodka like it’s water to cool down, and I’m already a little bit buzzed, which is perfectly fine by me. I didn’t catch the band’s name, but they’re awesome, and when they finish and we all applaud, I make a mental note to ask Damien later. Meanwhile, my eyes are glued to the stage as the host introduces the main act.
Dallas is standing right behind me, and though his hands aren’t touching me, he sways forward and I sway back, so that our bodies brush just slightly. And I know that while we both hope that it looks like an innocent brush of two people moving on a dance floor, in our minds, we’re both fucking right here in the crowd.
And damned if I don’t want to reach back, hold his hips still, and grind my ass against his erection. The urge is so powerful, in fact, that I clasp my hands in front of my belly button, afraid that if I let go I will give in to desire. Because I’m wired on music and drink and my inhibitions are very, very low.
Then Dominion Gate comes on, and everyone around us goes completely crazy, and when they lead into their first song, I start to dance and Nikki and Sylvia soon join me, and I can feel Dallas behind us, swaying to the music, his eyes hard and hot on me. And, yes, I add a few extra shimmies knowing that he is watching me.