“Do you want to join them or try somewhere else?”
Before I can answer him, a bachelorette party woos by. The last pink-boa-wearer underestimates the room she needs to squeeze through. As she passes, she stumbles a little, jostling me and knocking my back into Dax’s front. I’m briefly acquainted with the fit muscles of Dax’s chest and the warmth from his hands as he steadies my hips.
“You okay?” he asks, turning my shoulders so I’m facing him.
“No permanent damage.”
The space between us is mere inches. We’re so close that I catch the faintest hint of mint. Whether it’s from gum or a toothbrush, all I can think is, That’s kissing breath. And then, Is Dax planning on kissing me?
Oh shit.
My heart is booming so hard that I worry it’s going to dislodge itself. I press my hands to my chest just to hold it in.
I think I want him to kiss me.
I mean, that’s been my plan all along. But Aunt Livi was pretty insistent that we keep the proper order of the cleanse. Not to mention it may also ruin four solid years of beautiful friendship. The smart thing would be to get off this train to heartbreak before it leaves the station. Yet, I’m still running my tongue over my teeth, kicking myself for not taking a few moments to make a minimal effort earlier to freshen up.
“What are you thinking?” Dax’s deep voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
I debate my answer until it dawns on me that his question is about the table.
“Let’s stay here.” I chicken out, using a voice an octave higher than normal. “Haven’t seen those guys in ages.” Or ever.
“Okay,” says Dax’s mouth, but his eyes betray him. And I get a weird twisting in my stomach because even though this plan was my call, I think I’m disappointed too.
“Shall we?” Dax holds out his arm, allowing me to lead the way. I don’t miss that as I pass, he places his fingers ever so lightly on the small of my back.
I weave us through the crowd until we reach the table, too preoccupied with the heat from his hand and the way it permeates through the cotton of my camisole to figure out how the hell I’m going to navigate introductions.
If I had any doubts that the eye contact and invitation to sit were meant for me, they are erased as we approach the table, and the woman sitting there jumps to her feet, holding her arms out for a hug.
“Oh my gosh, Gemma, it is so great to see you!”
I hold out my hands and meet her embrace, looking from her to the man with her as we squeeze. She is petite and Asian, with a short black bob and a stylish leather jacket. The man is white and exceptionally tall, with sandy-colored hair and a plain blue polo shirt.
I am 100 percent sure I’ve not met either of these people in my life.
But in this life, we are on hugging terms.
“This is Dax.” I try the age-old trick of introducing the person whose name you know first, hoping the unidentified parties will follow by introducing themselves. It works. As they shake Dax’s hand, she introduces herself as Lux, he as Leo.
“So, how do you know Gemma?” Dax asks, and I’m as eager to hear the answer as he is.
“The three of us used to sail together down at the harbor,” Lux explains. “Leo and Gemma took lessons on Mondays, Gemma and I took lessons on Wednesdays. She thought the two of us would hit it off, and she introduced us.”
Leo puts his arm around Lux’s shoulders and pulls her tight to his chest. She looks up at him in this adoring way. You can practically see the cartoon hearts floating between them.
“We sort of lost touch with you after classes ended,” Lux explains. “But we’re so happy we ran into you because…” She thrusts out her left hand. There’s a gorgeous emerald on her ring finger. It’s almost as big as her smile. “We’re getting married in August. You obviously need to be there, Gemma. You too, Dax.”
I squeal because they’re engaged, and it’s so obvious it’s true love. It’s a tiny bit overwhelming. Hearing about this life I’ve lived but wasn’t present for.
I remember wanting to take sailing lessons years ago. It was right before I graduated with my degree. I was at the edge of adulthood and thinking new world, new me, and maybe it was time to take a baby step outside of my comfort zone. Sailing seemed like a doable leap. But then I met Stuart. He wasn’t a fan of the water, so I never ended up pursuing it. There have been a few points when I’ve regretted not signing up for those classes over the years. And sitting here recalling memories Other Gemma lived with Lux and Leo, I am regretting that choice even more now.