Page 58 of Accidental Husband

He cuts me off. "Would you like to dance?"

I nod—talking is still not happening—and he offers his hand.

Together, we move into the fray.

One of his friends yells something, but it dissolves in the pounding music.

He wraps his arm around my waist. Pulls me close. Sways in time with the music.

The beat is fast. I'm not sure how to move. I try to follow his lead, but I don't quite get there. He's not hitting the rhythm of the song.

We're not connecting.

Even so, he looks down at me with a smile (he really is tall). "I'm Adrian."

"Juliette."

"Where's Romeo?" He flashes me that same smile. "Kidding. I get a lot of people screamingAdrienne."

What?

"Rocky?The boxing movie."

"I'm not familiar."

"There's a scene where Rocky Balboa screamsAdrienne. His girlfriend's name. I'm not sure people realize the spelling is different." His fingers curl into my lower back. "I understand the pain."

Right. I mean, people do ask me stupid questions about my name. It was annoying in middle school. Not as annoying as thewhere are you from, reallyor thewhy don't you look like your momorwhy are you so bad at Spanishquestions. (I barely made As all the way through Spanish Four, and I still can't say anything without an atrocious American accent). But it was annoying. "Honors British Lit was especially tough."

"What?" He turns his head to hear.

I rise to my tiptoes so I can whisper in his ear. "Honors British Lit was especially tough." God, what a lame thing to whisper.

Adrian likes it. He laughs. Then pulls me closer. "I bet." His cheek brushes mine as he leans in to whisper. "What brings you to Vegas?"

"I guess you could call it a bachelorette party."

"Oh." He slides his hands down my back. "Who's the victim?"

"Me."

"You have my condolences."

"Thanks." A laugh spills from my lips. Sure, I'm not actually getting married. But that is a good thing. As much as this hurts, I'm really fucking glad I'm not getting married tomorrow. "Your friend is getting married?"

He taps his t-shirt. "What gave me away?"

"Is he happy?"

"I think so."

"Are you happy for him?"

"Damn, Juliette. You're asking the tough questions tonight."

"Sorry. I'm not really… It's been a while since I dated."

"I can imagine." His fingers curl into my lower back.