The Summer Girlfriend (Heart Beach, #1)(66)

“You promised to dance with me tonight, sir,” Robin said, nudging Percy in the arm.

Percy stood and adjusted his bow tie as he pulled back Robin’s chair and helped her stand. “I’ll definitely try my best.”

Noelle watched Percy and Robin make their way to the dance floor. She was intrigued to see what Percy looked like when he danced. For some reason, she had a hard time imagining him having any rhythm.

“My mom and grandpa always shared the first dance,” Amara explained, leaning across the table toward Noelle. “The little dance that Jeremiah did was one of our grandfather’s favorites. He called it the mashed potato.”

“Oh,” Noelle said. Now Celeste’s brief, emotional reaction made sense. Noelle looked out onto the dance floor at Jeremiah, who was still standing with Celeste. They were surrounded by guests, and Jeremiah turned slowly, searching the crowd. Then his gaze landed on Noelle and he smiled. He pointed at her and curled his finger, beckoning her over to him.

“I think I’m being summoned,” Noelle said to Amara, keeping eyes on Jeremiah as she stood. “You coming?”

Amara grinned as she glanced back and forth between Noelle and Jeremiah. “I’ll be out there soon. You go ahead.”

Jeremiah eased his way through the crowd to meet Noelle halfway on the dance floor. When he reached her, he rested a hand against her waist and began an easy two-step. She followed his rhythm. The DJ was playing “Never Too Much” by Luther Vandross.

“That was sweet of you to dance with your mom,” Noelle said, knowing now how special their moment was. “You’re a smooth dancer.”

“Thank you.” He shrugged playfully. “People tell me that I’m a smooth guy.”

Noelle laughed and stepped closer to him, moving her hips from side to side. He grinned, moving closer as well. She willingly let him invade her space as he brought his other hand to her waist.

Their dance was interrupted by an older man who hugged Jeremiah.

“You looked just like your grandfather out there,” the man said, patting Jeremiah on the shoulder. “Spitting image.”

“Ah, yeah,” Jeremiah said, smiling. “Thank you.”

The man continued walking on, and Jeremiah returned his hands to Noelle’s waist. But soon they were interrupted again. This time by two women who were Amara’s friends from college.

“You literally look just like the picture of your grandfather when he was younger that Amara posted on her page a few months ago,” one of the women said. “It’s crazy!”

“You are him and he is you,” the other friend added.

The women laughed, and Jeremiah laughed lightly too, but Noelle noticed the strain in his smile. After Amara’s friends walked away, Jeremiah took Noelle’s hand and started to lead her toward the edge of the dance floor, but that didn’t stop more people from approaching them and repeating what had already been said—that Jeremiah reminded them so much of his grandfather tonight. No one else but Noelle seemed to notice how uncomfortable Jeremiah looked. Across the room, Mercy Webster waved at them and started to make her way through the crowd. Jeremiah’s posture went rigid. There was no doubt in Noelle’s mind that Mercy was going to make a comparison to his grandfather.

Noelle gently tugged on Jeremiah’s hand. “I need some fresh air. Walk me outside?”

“Of course.” He led her through the ballroom to the exit. Once they were outside in the night breeze, he turned to Noelle, eyes searching her face in concern.

“You okay?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “But it looked like you needed a minute.”

He cracked a small smile. Then he closed his eyes and turned his face up toward the sky, inhaling a heavy breath.

Noelle was already in deeper than she needed to be where Jeremiah was concerned. She should just leave it. She shouldn’t ask why the comparisons to his grandfather seemed to affect him so. Nothing about their agreement said that she needed to get involved. But as she looked at Jeremiah and took in his weary expression, she knew that she’d come to care about him too much to stand by and say nothing.

“Why does it bother you when people say that you look like you grandfather?” she asked.

He opened his eyes, but he was quiet for so long, she wondered if he’d heard what she said.

“It never bothered me before,” he finally answered. “People have said that to me my whole life. I’m aware of how much I look like him. I was proud to look like my grandfather and share his name. I’m still proud now, but…it’s also a lot harder to hear lately when people point it out to me.”

“Why?” she asked gently.

His gaze dropped to the ground. “Because no matter how much we look alike on the outside, it only makes me think about the other ways I’m not like him. And how he was a much better man than I’ll probably ever be.”

Noelle frowned, wondering how he’d come to this conclusion. “What makes you think that?”

He continued to stare fixedly at the ground, like he was weighing if he wanted to share what was on his mind. Then he brought his gaze back up to Noelle’s face.

“The night before my grandfather died, we got into an argument,” he said.

Noelle listened as Jeremiah told her about his last conversation with his grandfather, and how he’d stormed out instead of staying to talk. He told her how he’d planned to apologize in the morning, but his grandfather had passed away.