Carmen, barefoot in a silk dress that hung off one shoulder, was swaying in the center of the room, unaware she wasn’t alone. Her hair was pinned up haphazardly with one of her metal claw clips, a few curls already escaping to frame her flushed face.
The half-empty bottle of champagne I had sent up sat sweating on the nightstand. I was glad she had already begun enjoying herself.
She turned and spotted me.
A grin stretched across her mouth—wicked, and entirely too pleased with herself.
“You’re late,” she said, hips still moving to the beat. “The party started without you.”
I stepped closer, undoing the first few buttons of my shirt. “Is that my champagne?”
“Technically? It was a gift. You sent it up.” She spun, slowly, arms above her head. “I just accepted it.”
I laughed under my breath. “You’re drunk.”
“Tipsy,” she corrected. “There’s a difference. Besides—” She pointed at me with a remote like it was a dagger. “—you knew what you were doing. This was a setup.”
I smirked. “Maybe.”
The song transitioned into the chorus, and she extended a hand, her grin softening and slowing.
“Dance with me, Teddy Bear.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re calling me Teddy Bear. That’s how I know you’re faded.”
“Shh. I’m being romantic,” she said. “Don’t ruin this.”
I crossed the room and took her hand. “I’m not ruining anything.”
One inhale of her breath as I embraced her told me everything I needed to know. “Smells like you had more than the champagne, Sweetness.”
She shrugged and smiled. “So I had a taste of the complimentary bar—” Not complimentary. “—what’s the harm? I’ve been cooped up in here all day. Might as well make the most of it.”
I sighed, guilt pricking me. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
She noticed immediately and refused to let my mood sour. “It’s okay, Teddy. I’m fine. Let’s just dance.”
We moved in time with the music, swaying slowly and lazily. It had nothing to do with skill and everything to do with being close, evident by how she pushed up against me. Carmen’s palm was warm against my chest, and her head tilted back just enough to meet my eyes. Her laugh bubbled out when I stumbled trying to match her rhythm.
“Okay,” she teased, eyebrows raised, “so you have no hips.”
“I do have hips,” I defended, squinting down at her. “They just don’t dance on command. Actually, they don’t dance at all.”
“Excuses, Theodore. You’re so stiff.”
“'Cause I’m carrying the weight of your drunk ass.”
She gasped, hand pressing dramatically to her chest as I laughed. “Rude!”
Sometimes I think you’re just too good for me.
Sade continued softly in the background, and our movements slowed. Her fingers curled into my shirt, her cheek settling gently against me.
“I missed you today,” she murmured.
I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing her in. “I missed you, too.”
“How was work?”
