Why am I even thinking about that kind of stuff? I'm barely even in my 20s and I've known this guy for like six months. For some reason, everything to do with him feels like it's moving at a thousand miles an hour. I've fallen hard for him, hard and fast; but we are so up and down, I have the emotional bruises to prove it. I can't even fathom where we are going to be next month versus next year. I mean, fuck, I barely even know for myself if I want any of that sort of thing; marriage and babies and whatnot. Sometimes I feel like such a drastically different person that I'm not sure if I would recognize myself in a police lineup.
I blame him completely, it's totally his fault for making me fall for him. His uncharacteristically sweet words, his big gestures, the care that he shows; it's all his fault. And now here I am, wondering if a twinkle in his eye means he wants to make babies and hoping he wants to make them with me. God, I am a fool.
A large round of applause brings me back down to earth. The MC for the evening has told us that the band will start back up in a few minutes, advising us to enjoy our evening. I look back up at Rhodes to find him already looking down at me, a soft but mischievous grin crossing his full lips.
"What?" I ask him, the corners of my lips lifting to imitate his smile. He has one of those smiles that spreads no matter what. I hope he isn't smiling because he caught me watching him, or maybe he somehow learned to read all the thoughts in my head.
"I'm ready to head home, too eager to rip this thing off of you," his voice drops low enough for just the two of us to hear, as the palm of his hands brushes against the thin fabric of my dress. I can feel my body tighten at just his words, I barely even registered that he called his apartment 'home' and not 'my place'.
"You're unbelievable, Mr. Whitlock," I comment teasingly. I know he likes it when I call him that. My dirty talk is still probably sitting at a C- level, but at least I know some tricks will work every time.
"I know, baby, let's go," he replies quickly, seemingly impressed with my response. His hand cradles mine as we weave our way through the guests back towards the main entryway. Many of the couples are heading to the dance floor so the process is somewhat difficult. I would bother Rhodes for a dance, but if the choice is slow dancing versus us going home and him ripping this dress off of me, well I think I will take the latter. Just as we are about to embrace the chill of outside, someone stops Rhodes in his tracks. A young-looking man in a dark suit places his hand on Rhodes's chest as he tries to walk past. Rhodes's head turns to see who has stopped him and a look of warmth and recognition spreads across his face.
"Dale, good to see you, man, how are you?" Rhodes says jovially as he shakes the man's hand. The man, Dale, lets out a light chuckle and shakes his hand in return.