Unbound - Rachel's Story
Copyright© 2025 by A Kiwi Guy
Chapter 8
Matt and Steve had barely taken their seats before deciding that a drink was in order. They navigated the throng to the refreshments table, returning with two glasses of low-alcohol wine.
They had scarcely raised their glasses when Anton — Rachel’s least favourite person in the universe — appeared with the languid swagger of a man convinced he was God’s gift to womankind.
“I’d hate to see you lacking a dance partner,” he drawled to Rachel, “so can I have the pleasure of escorting you around the room?”
Matt’s reply was immediate and merciless. “I’m thrilled you’ve asked me to dance,” he said with a radiant smile. “I never thought you would.”
Before Anton could blink, Matt was on his feet, drawing the unsuspecting man into a close ballroom hold and propelling him onto the floor.
“I wasn’t asking you,” Anton hissed, trying to wriggle free. “Let me go, or...”
“Or what?” Matt’s tone was mild, almost friendly, though his grip told a different story. He manoeuvred Anton through the crowd with the unyielding control of a judo master.
“Listen carefully,” Matt murmured in a voice meant for Anton alone. “Rachel wants nothing to do with you. Neither do I. Come within five metres of her again, and you’ll be spending the next few months reconsidering your life choices from a horizontal position.”
They reached the far side of the room. Matt sat Anton down—firmly—grinding his heel once, deliberately, into Anton’s instep before straightening up and striding back without a backward glance. Rachel, having watched the entire manoeuvre, was still wide-eyed when he reached her.
“Wow,” Sarah breathed. “That was ... the most complete put-down I’ve ever seen.”
“I don’t think you’ll be troubled by him again,” Steve added, lifting his glass in salute.
Rachel reached for Matt’s sleeve and drew him down. “I can’t begin to tell you what that meant to me,” she whispered. “But maybe I don’t need to.” She kissed him— just long enough that conversation around their table paused.
When they broke apart, something unspoken hung between them. Whatever it was, it warmed the air.
The band struck up a slow waltz, and Matt rose with a grin. “Alright, my girl—time to show them what you can do.”
Rachel felt a flutter of nerves. They had rehearsed this— yes—but practice in a quiet hall and performance under a hundred curious eyes were two different beasts.
“C’mon, kid,” Matt whispered as he wheeled her onto the floor. “You’ve got this.”
They moved into the opening of “Somewhere My Love,” a tune they had providentially practised to. She was a little edgy at first, but Matt’s grasp gave her support and strength, and she quickly began to follow his lead. Soon she was lost to anything but the music and his presence. One sequence flowed into another, her chair gliding in perfect synchrony with his steps.
What Rachel did not realise was that as she and Matt worked into their routine, other couples were amazed – they had never seen anything quite like this. It was novel and beautiful. Spellbound, one by one, other dancers stopped, moved to the side and let Rachel and Matt take over the floor. It was a magical moment, and as the tune reached its well-known climax, the applause hit them like a wave. They blinked, surprised, as the room erupted in cheers and shouts of “Bravo!” Almost sheepishly, they went back to rejoin Sarah and Steve, who stood and embraced the pair.
They had barely regained their seats when the MC took the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, a quick announcement before our next set. We’re going to have a little fun—a couples’ dance-off! Our judges will be watching, and the winning pair will receive an all-expenses-paid long weekend in beautiful Queenstown—sightseeing, fine dining, adventure activities— you name it.”
There was a murmur of excitement, and as the next tune struck up, Matt and Rachel found themselves dancing again—laughing, improvising, feeding off the crowd’s energy.
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