Page 83 of A Little Tempting
“You know, I think you pointed it out a time or two,” I tell him.
“Is it about the headaches?”
Oxygen stalls in my lungs, but I force it out in a careful, controlled breath. “What about my headaches?”
“Anytime Everett hears you bring them up, he turns defensive.”
Lips bunching, I lean back in my seat and fold my arms, studying the man beside me through thin slits. “You’re way too perceptive for your own good. You know that, right?”
He smirks. “I like to think it’s one of my best traits.”
“Depends on who you ask.”
“So, what happened?” he pushes.
“It was an accident.”
“Figured as much. Everett wouldn’t hurt a fly. Not on purpose. Unless I was the fly and you were in the room. Then I think he’d be okay pulling out the swatter.”
“Dylan.” A glass is set in front of me, and I look up, finding a very restrained Everett staring down at me.
Shit.
“Oh. Hi,” I murmur.
His chin dips as he lowers into the seat on my opposite side. “What were you guys talking about?”
“Nothing, really,” I start. “Will you dance with me?”
“You don’t dance,” he reminds me.
“Normally, you’re totally right, but at this moment, I’m pretty sure we could use the opportunity to cut a rug, don’t you think?”
“Cut a rug?” Reeves snorts. “You’re cute when you’re awkward, Dylan.”
I glare at him, then stand up, and Everett does the same. Linking my arm through his, I urge him to take me to the dance floor while ignoring a curious Reeves still sitting at the table. By some miracle, Everett gives in and humors me. We walk to the dance floor, and when we reach the center, I look up at him, waiting for him to pull me closer. To start dancing with me. Instead, he stands there, his hands flexing.
“You can touch my waist, you know,” I murmur.
“Right.” His arms are stiff, but he reaches for me, placing his palms against my upper waist, practically cupping my ribs. I’d laugh if it didn’t feel so forced. It doesn’t help that I have a clear view of a pulsing vein in his forehead.
“You’re mad,” I decide.
“Reeves is a dick.”
“He was simply asking questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“Questions about you and me,” I murmur. “He’s convinced you have feelings for me since you’re so protective.”
“And?”
“Aaaand…nothing, I guess.” I tear my attention from his hard gaze, choosing to focus on the top button of his white button-up shirt as the next song starts. It’s slow and sexy and makes me feel like I’m crawling out of my own skin.
Why is this so…awkward? I’ve never felt awkward around Everett. Ever. I swear I can hear his molars grinding, but I’m too anxious to confirm my suspicion. When my foot lands on his, he curses under his breath, every muscle in his body turning to stone beneath my fingertips.
Shit.