Read Online The Same Deep Water by Lisa Swallow - Free Book Online Page B

for?”
    “Getting too close.”
    “We’re dancing. I’m fine.”
    “Do you want to stop?” Guy’s warm breath caresses my cheek, nose touching my ear, and I’m on the verge of twisting my face to gauge if a kiss is next.
    Is this what I want?
    I disentangle myself. “My feet are starting to hurt.”
    “Right.”
    “And I’m tired.”
    The side of Guy’s face I can see shifts into concerned lines. “Everything okay?”
    “I think so.”
    We head through the dancing bodies to the table; I sit and pour myself water from the half-empty carafe. Although neither of us speaks, the awareness the dance has somehow shifted our relationship hovers in the charged air between us. Confused by what I really want from the situation, and aware I have work tomorrow, I resolve to keep the line between us uncrossed.
    “Am I allowed to tick this off my list now?” I ask.
    “You danced. Putting yourself through that trauma deserves a tick.”
    “Dancing wasn’t traumatic!” I say with a laugh.
    “But you stopped. Did I make you uncomfortable?”
    Quite the opposite. “You’re a good dance partner. You didn’t grope my ass so that was a bonus.”
    The dimples appear again. “I have a lot of self-restraint. Your ass is very gropeable.”
    “Nice.”
    He shrugs. “Hey, I’m a man and you’re an attractive girl.”
    My fingers itch to take his mask off and see the expression behind his words, to find if my desire is reflected in his eyes. “Thanks.”
    “This is the part where you tell me I’m ‘hot’, exchange of compliments, remember?”
    “You don’t need me to tell you that.”
    “Very true. I hope you’re not thinking of leaving soon. I’m enjoying this and I’ve even spotted you beginning to relax.”
    “You’re good company.”
    He laughs. “And you’re so formal!”
    “But I’m not sure I’ll stay much longer, sorry.”
    Guy shakes his wrist to read his watch. “You are Cinderella not Belle. And you’re late, it’s twelve thirty.”
    “Ha ha. You stay if you want.”
    “What point is the prince without the princess?”
    “You’re not a prince, you’re just some Guy.”
    I giggle again; but instead of laughing with me, Guy’s mouth twitches. “Okay, let’s go.”
    He stands and knocks his chair back then strides away. That was a joke, he makes them enough, why be offended by mine? I hurry to catch up, weaving through the half-empty tables and into the shining hotel lobby where other guests mill around. The music from the function room is replaced by the sound of one couple arguing at an uncomfortable volume nearby.
    “I’ll call a taxi, we can share one?” I suggest as I reach Guy.
    “Which direction do you live in?”
    “Leederville.”
    “Wrong way for me, but I’ll come with you, make sure you’re in the taxi safely,” he offers.
    “I’m fine.”
    “Suit yourself.”
    The atmosphere has dropped to several degrees below zero and I’m unsure why. I thought our exchange was banter. Guy buries his hands in his jacket pockets and heads outside as I call the taxi, wandering to the large sliding glass doors and watching him as I make the call.
    Guy perches on a wall at the edge of the pick-up area outside the lobby, hands in his pockets, and mask still on.
    “Five minutes,” I say as I approach.
    “Okay.”
    I sit next to him. “Did I annoy you?”
    “Annoy me? No, I was having fun, that’s all. But I understand if you’ve had enough.”
    “I enjoyed myself. Honestly.”
    The arguing couple head past, and when the woman trips and lands on the floor, the man stands and looks down at her, arms crossed.
    “I thought maybe because you’d rather be here with someone else,” he says quietly.
    “No, you’re my travelling companion. Who else would I bring? Complete the lists together, remember?”
    His shoulders relax and he shifts, our legs touching. The summer evening is muggy, no breeze to cool my skin heated by the dance. Guy looks upwards where the Southern Cross