Look at You

Chapter 38

38

As soon as we're back at the bar, Simon's ordering drinks for a family of five. Callie finds us, and of course, joins in.

"Cameron!" Simon is slapping my bicep with the back of his hand. "Have a shot with us!"

"Absolutely not," I pull my water glass closer for protection. "Count me out of whatever it is you two are doing."

He shrugs, drops a tequila shot in his beer, and swigs the entire thing down without so much of a grimace. And then, he orders another round—or Callie does—and the act repeats a second time! I find myself getting sick just watching.

Simon orders another two drinks, this time a quick tequila soda and a beer, when I feel it's time to intervene. A very low-key, very off-handed intervention, but still.

"You drive here?" I ask him. I look around the room instead of at him. It looks like the three of us, Mathias, Libby, and the other receptionist are the only ones still here from work. I blow air out of my nose. I should have ditched a while ago.

He nods. I nod. I shouldn't have ditched a while ago, because knowing how proud and determined Simon is, he would have driven himself home if no one said anything.

"Hey, have you guys ever thought about multiple realities?" And with that, Mathias ensnares us in a conversation about the space-time continuum. And I don't think Simon can even say the word continuum right now.

"Callie's calling," he tells me half-heartedly over his shoulder. He points to the far back of the bar, where patrons are tossing darts and dancing to whatever's on the Juke Box. Callie and Libby are sipping canned seltzers and waving Simon over to them. "One sec."

And with that, I'm left to the continuum.

I watch, though, as he picks apart the crowd to reach them. As he walks, he shoots eyes at me over his shoulder. The eyes very clearly say, how's space? I cover the smile on my lips with a finger. Thankfully, I think, Mathias is none the wiser.

When Simon gets there, he reaches for Callie's hand and pulls her into a clearing in the corner of the room. The two of them together, they shine.

He's teaching Callie two step. Even from here, I can see her laughing. Watching them interact, it has a habit of squeezing my heart.

Once Callie seems to be able to follow the steps, things start to get interesting. Simon's spinning her and dipping her—which I didn't teach—and there's even a hand or two that press against Callie's stomach as he drops her lower. The moves get slower—I think they're talking—but not lazy. They relax to the beat of the Adele song on the Jukebox, and I'm astounded Simon still has his rhythm with the amount of alcohol he's put in that body. Soon the two step turns into a sensual half-waltz, their bodies far closer than ours had been that night. He's showing no one else attention except for her. His hands hold her tightly, with purpose, like this dance with this girl is the only reason he showed up tonight. Watching it is making it hard for me to swallow.

And I don't think I'm the only one who feels that way. A cursory glance around this side of the bar shows almost every set of female eyes on him.

When the song ends, the first thing he does is bow. He's noticed the crowd. The second thing he does is look at me. I take a deep breath as he makes his way straight toward my front-row seat. I force myself to be normal. Act normal.

I try to reorient myself coolly on the bar and suddenly realize Mathias has disappeared. I don't know how long I left him talking to himself, too fixated on the couple across the room to even feign interest.