"The body says what words cannot." — Martha Graham
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Chapter 21
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Maggie

The night carried on agonizingly slow. There were several of the mayors' friends who stopped by our table to speak to Luke throughout it. I saw a side of him I'd never seen before. It was professional in every sense, but it sounded so rehearsed, I think I knew the speech word by word now.

I'd lost count of how many women had stopped by to talk, well, flirt, with Luke, as well. If I were his girlfriend, I'd sure as hell hate it. This shit was exhausting just acting like it. To my shock though, he'd deliver a head nod every time they pursued him, a cold shoulder in tow until they took the hint.

Other than that, I had managed to find several distractions to help guide me away from the path of insanity. By distractions, I meant champagne and a butt-load of truffles.

I'd lost count after a while, but as time went on, my stomach started to twist. I wasn't sure if it were because I needed actual food, or if I'd eaten too much chocolate.

Luke looked to me, an amused glint in his eye. He took the truffle from my hand for himself.  "You good?"

I nodded, keeping my expression straight. "Of course I am."

Luke chuckled, picking his glass up. "Mhm," he kicked back the rest of his champagne, then stood. "Good, because it's time—"

I hopped up so quick, I nearly turned the chair over. "To go home?"

He drew out a sigh. "I fucking wish, but no." He linked our fingers, leading me closer to him. "There's one...minor detail I forgot to mention about tonight."

I watched him warily. "Please say that Beyoncé is going to come out of that chocolate fountain with a halftime performance or something."

"We have to slow dance," Luke rushed out. "Trust me, I hate it just as much as you do, but—"

My mouth fell to my knees. No way. No fucking way. "Absolutely not." I yanked my finger away from him.

"Maggie," he hissed. "Do you know how badly it'll look if the mayor's son isn't out there with everyone else?"

"I don't give two flying fucks," I snapped at him. "That's not my problem, okay? I did all that you asked. I showed up, I was a good girl, and I played the role. Now I'm going home."

I picked up the ends of my dress, then grabbed my clutch. I didn't even bother to finish the champagne, before I began to advance toward the kitchen.

"Maggie," Luke called from behind me.

I slammed the kitchen door after me, but it didn't even click shut before I heard him shuffling through. "Maggie, listen, okay—"

I jerked around to end this. "The answer is no, Luke. You literally have a line of girls out there willing to dance with you. Pick one of them."

He shoved a frustrated hand through his hair. "Beatrice already thinks you're my girl. It'll look bad for the both of us."

I released a venomous laugh. "Oh no, really?" I jerked around, starting for the door again. "Well, then. I'll try not to have nightmares about it."

He caught up to me so quick, I barely believed it happened. His hand curled around my arm, gently tugging me around. "Maggie—"

I jerked my arm away from him. "I don't care about you threatening me with the cops, anymore. So don't even try it."

His eyes pulled mine in. "I'm not," he argued, his voice dipping. "But..." he paused to sigh. "Please, Maggie. I'm genuinely asking you to do this."

I studied over his face, carefully. His hard demeanor had disappeared, and was now replaced with a desperate one. His eyes pleaded with me to say yes.

I huffed, glaring back at him. I knew why he was so desperate; his father would probably break a bone for every minute of shame he thought Luke brought. I'd seen his rage firsthand, and it was so sickening to picture it, again.

Damn it.

With a sigh, I took a step closer. His eyes grew hesitant with a mix of hope, as well.

"If I do this," I started, crossing my arms. "I don't have to help you move furniture Monday, and you buy me free lunch for the rest of the month." I offered a hand to seal the deal. "That's your only offer."

His face fell with relief before he nodded. "I'll buy you a whole fucking restaurant for this shit."

I perked a brow at him. "You better be careful saying that because I'm a certified, retired gold digger."

An eye roll followed from his side before he took my hand, and we shook on it.

We began to walk toward the kitchen door. Each step nearly felt like a walk of doom.

Finally, I paused, causing Luke to do the same. "What is it?"

I might as well save myself some embarrassment. "I don't know how to dance," I admitted.

Luke shot me an odd glance. "You serious?"

I nodded. "Completely."

"I've literally seen you get into a dance-off with a crackhead over a hotdog," he said slowly, still confused. "And, at parties, you throw your ass around until you black out."

The first story was when Levi, Raven, and I had all gotten wasted, and a crackhead dance-challenged me outside of a gas station for a hotdog. I found myself replaying the video for laughs pretty often, but that didn't soothe my worries.

"Those other times were different," I admitted. "This is slow dancing. All of you assholes have been doing this shit since you could walk."

"Hey," Luke stopped me, squeezing my hand. I hadn't even realized he never let go. "Don't worry. I'll show you how."

I sighed, nodding. I guessed I could trust him on that. If I messed up, then so did he, technically.

The music was already beginning, soft and classical. I wasn't sure if there were live performers or not, but it sure sounded like it.

The people were already gathering in the center of the ballroom. Shit.

"Luke," I whispered, gulping down any confidence I thought I had. "If you let me embarrass myself, I'm going to kill you."

"I won't let anything happen to you."

He pulled us into the crowd, practically placing me in front of him. His hands made a reach for my waist. My scowl built as I took a step back from him. Luke sighed before he placed a hand around my back, tugging me into him until I had no chance but to fall.

I nearly landed straight into his chest, but caught myself. Luke clasped the hand he'd been holding the entire time, raising it until it was to eye level.

He nodded at me. "Drape your hand on my shoulder, and leave it up there. I'll do the rest." With a mix of a sigh and a groan, I did as he asked, letting my hand fall lazily atop his shoulder.

His hand grasped at my lower back, squeezing once before he let it rest there. Zaps of tingles rang through that spot alone. I averted my gaze to the floor in order to wait the feeling out.

"Now," Luke whispered. "I'm going to lift you up and put you on my feet, okay?"

I raised my eyes to his. "What? Why?" I glanced to the side in time to catch a couple coming toward us, but they quickly went back into place.

Luke nodded down at me. "Because I know you're nervous, and this'll make things easier," he explained. "Ready?"

"I'm wearing heels," I reminded him. "They're going to—"

Before I could finish, Luke had wrapped an arm around my back. He lifted me until my heels were pressing into the lining of his shoes. I let my hand remain on his shoulder, and his own went to my waist instead.

"You have to come closer," he stated, nodding at me.

I blew out a nauseated breath. "If I get any closer to you, I'm gonna throw up."

"Maggie," he sighed out.

I huffed. "Fine, fine."

I leaned in until my chest barely grazed his. I held my breath, risking a glance to him for anymore instruction. His gaze was already on me, deep in concentration.

Neither of us broke contact. I held on simply to see what his next move would be, but by the looks of it, he held it for something entirely different.

"Hey, dingus," I whispered, eyeing the moving couples next to us. "We have to move soon."

He hesitated before blinking. His head bobbed lazily. "Yeah...yeah, here." His hand tightened around mine, and I may have been mistaken, but I could have sworn I felt him swipe his thumb across the back.

"I'm gonna step forward, right, back, then left," he instructed, tilting his head in that direction. "I'll guide your feet, just move your body with me, okay?"

I nodded, willing my hand to stop sweating, and shaking, and everything else in between. The rest of my body wasn't doing any better, but I managed to hold up.

Luke maintained his grip on my waist, as well as my hand. After a couple of minutes, I realized I hadn't been hallucinating. He was stroking the back of my hand with his thumb.

I willed myself to tear away from the hold, to rip his thumb from his body, and shove it down his throat. But, I didn't.

I found comfort in that gesture, alone. The nervousness that had controlled me at the beginning of the dance no longer even existed the longer he touched me, apparently.

Luke watched me carefully before letting his eyes fall. "You okay?"

I nodded, a little too quickly. "I think." That was the biggest lie, and the biggest truth I'd ever spoken.

"Good," he murmured, drawing in a sigh. "You know...I've never had even a speck of fun at this place before."

My lips lifted into a smile. "Let me guess, I changed that?"

Luke turned his eyes to the side with a shake of the head. A chuckle fell from him before he said, "Nah, not even in the slightest. But...you did make it bearable."

I smiled, shrugging. "I'll take the compliment, nonetheless." My gaze fell to the floor, but since my dress was so long, it covered my feet being on his own. "Does it hurt?"

He shook his head. "Nah," he paused, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. "I'm not gonna lie, though, the temptation to drop you is growing pretty damn strong."

I squinted my eyes at him in warning. "Go ahead. If I go down, you're going down with me, pretty boy."

He raised a brow down at me. "You ask me about nicknames, but you've been admitting that I was pretty this entire time." His chuckle rocked his adam's apple. "I knew you thought so."

Cocky son of a bitch. "I'm admitting you're a boy," I corrected with a scowl. "Get out of your own head."

His face pulled into a half-grin. "You first."

I bit into my lip to stop from smiling back. My eyes went behind, beside, and under him to avoid the penetrating gaze that he was sporting.

"I'm gonna dip you," Luke warned, his gaze skipping over me. "Don't freak out. I'm not going to let you fall."

The music began to slow at his warning.

"Wait, what?" My cheeks went bright red at him. "Why can't we keep—" Before I could react, my body was going down. I tried to stop from swinging, and going into panic mode, but nonetheless, I was sure I looked like a fish out of water.

Panic filled me to the brim until it hurt as I stared at the back of someone's tuxedo. Luke's hand had gone to the upper part of my back, supporting my weight with both that, and the grip he had on my hand. He swept me up so quick, I barely had time to realize what was happening.

I fell into his chest with a yelp. One hand fell back to my waist to start our dance, again, his large fingers tightening around the spot in both a comforting, and possessive hold.

"Don't," I puffed out, my chest rising and falling. "Ever do that again."

Luke rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "I told you I had you."

"Yeah, well," I shook my head, glaring into the fabric of his tuxedo. "I don't trust you."

"Good girl," he responded with a chuckle. "You're doing fine, though, Maggie. Seriously."

At his tone, I raised my eyes to his. Luke stared back at me, his expression swimming with both frustration and admiration. I didn't know which one I trusted more.

My stomach squeezed, as well as something else that I couldn't name. The gravity of the situation was making me so dizzy, the room was beginning to spin.

I let my eyes fall, then shut entirely. Pulling in a breath, I begged the feeling to go back down. I couldn't listen, because it wasn't supposed to be there.

It was hot. The dress was making me hot, and the room was getting stuffy, and that was the only reason I could feel the beat of my heart in my throat. That was it.

I forced my eyes up to him to remind myself of every reason why I was right. But, when I met his, it only contradicted me.

His eyes were swimming with an abundance of conflict. They were digging into every cresses of every single part of me. I felt my lips part before I forced my face to smooth over.

"Quit looking at me like that," I demanded, my voice growing much more weak than I ever expected.

Luke didn't let up, his eyes hooding at me. "Like what?" The hand in mine tightened, his thumb running along the skin, again. I shivered at the feeling, and he caught it, his eyes jumping between me and our hands.

"Like you're..." I huffed, shaking my head. Just saying the words would fuck me up. "Nothing. Just...stop looking at me. Now."

Luke blinked, shaking his head once. Whatever he saw in me had disappeared by the growing scowl on his face. Good.

"You're right in front of me," he pointed out with a snarky tone. "The fuck else am I supposed to look at? "

"I don't care," I responded dryly.

Luke rolled his eyes, his fingers loosening around my waist for a moment. He lifted me, gently placing me back down onto my two feet. "This part's easy. All we have to do is sway together. Lean against me."

Ha. I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'd rather drain myself dry."

"Me and you both, Norris," he mumbled under his breath, drawing out a sigh. "Me and you both."

His eyes followed somewhere behind me. Slowly, I turned to catch whatever had caught his attention. Probably a girl, knowing him.

But, it wasn't. It was hard to decipher in the crowd, but it wasn't impossible with the harsh glare in his eyes. His father was in the center of the room with Beatrice in a dance, but his attention was on us. Well, on Luke, specifically. His eyes were narrowed at his son, a growing warning crossing his expression.

At my attention, his father shifted his gaze to mine. He nodded once at me, the trophy smile that he always presented to the public coming into play.

I didn't return it. Instead, I jerked back around to face Luke.

The sick rage attacked me by the throat, heading straight for my jugular. I tried to breathe through it but nothing was working. He was waiting for Luke to mess up, so that he could hit him, again.

Well, fuck that.

I grabbed Luke by his forearms, yanking him toward me. He stumbled for a moment before he caught himself. His hands went around my back, pressing me to him. The feeling of his skin against my bare skin made my heart skip a beat, one that couldn't be ignored.

I can do this. It's just a dance. There's nothing to it.

I trained my hands around his neck, then leaned into him. His body-wash along with a delicious cologne hugged at my senses so comfortably, it nearly soothed me into tranquil. The breath in my chest ceased to be just that as I leaned into his hard chest. I could hear his pulse, or maybe it was my own. All I knew, was that my head was running a million beats a minute.

I pulled back a bit to allow myself to breathe. Fuck.

My attention snapped up. Even in my position, I could see the scar along his neck. I eyed it carefully, the questions on the tip of my tongue. Before I could stop myself, my fingers grazed over the scarred skin.

Luke was so close to my ear, I heard his breath hitch. His hands froze along my back as he struggled to find a breath. "Stop, Maggie."

I lifted my head to look at him entirely, my finger hovering above the scar. I dropped my hand back to its original spot with a nod. I didn't want to make him uncomfortable in that sense.

He sighed, his hand stroking the skin along my back until he pulled me back in. I squeezed my eyes shut against his neck to stop from running. My words were low enough for only him to hear, "Did your dad do that to you?"

When he didn't answer, I knew.

That same rage from before struck me. Of course his dad did it.

"Luke," fell from me so silently, it resembled a whisper.

I didn't even realize his hands were shaking until I took a minute. They were trembling along my skin.

"Don't make fun of it, Maggie," he whispered back. "Please."

"I'm not," I corrected with a shake of my head. "You didn't make fun of mine."

The words tumbled out before I could stop them, but there was no use in trying to conceal it. I knew he saw them, drunk or not.

Luke remained silent for so long, I felt the gravity of my words twist around on me. Was he going to joke about, or insult them? Was he going to be disgusted at the reminder?

I nearly jumped at his softened voice. "Your scars were beautiful, Maggie."

The gasp slipped from my lips before I could stop it. I blinked into his chest, both flushed and shocked. He'd said the last thing I never thought he would.

I raised my eyes to his. "Luke—"

Before I got the words out, I was being swept away into another's arms.