"Still pretty close."
Ryan tapped his fingers on the wooden bench, then without overthinking it, he stood and offered her a hand.
She looked up at him. "I didn't tell you that as some plea for a pity dance."
Ryan didn't move. "I think it sounds fun."
She pursed her lips, then glanced past him. "I'm sure everyone is in their cabins looking out their windows right now."
"That's a problem?"
She teased her lower lip with her teeth. "Yeah. A little. I don't want them to get the wrong idea."
Ryan nodded. He started to lower his hand when she pushed up to stand in front of him. "Back porch?"
They walked back into the cabin and picked up their shoes, tiptoeing down the hall, and through the bedroom to the backdoor. The girls’ movie was still playing in the loft. This time Ryan couldn't pretend that he was only flirting with the line. He knew exactly what he was doing when he stood and offered Aelin his hand.
His hands trembled as he pushed open the door, and a gust of wind sent a spray of rain onto the carpet. Ryan pulled her out, their sandals slapping against the soaking deck boards as the rain whipped against their cheeks.
Aelin's eyes were wide as he pulled her into his arms. "Was it raining like this in the movie?" Ryan raised his voice above the creaking of the pine trees.
She laughed. "Definitely not."
There was no music to match, but as Ryan looped his arms around her waist and Aelin dropped hers over his shoulders, they swayed anyway. Aelin rested her temple against his cheek. Her normal coconut scent mixed with damp pine and sunscreen.
The rain lashed at them, cold and relentless. Ryan's shirt clung to his skin, and Aelin's hair plastered against her face. She laughed, and he closed his eyes to keep his eyeballs from getting pelted. Aelin pressed into him, and liquid fire flooded his veins. His hands pressed against her waist, feeling her muscles flex as she moved. Then he was imagining her in that bikini, goosebumps flashing across her skin.
He shifted, momentarily embarrassed by what she had to be feeling through those paper-thin joggers, but Aelin only pressed closer. He gritted his teeth and said the only thing that came into his head.
"I'm not really a dancer."
She grinned against his cheek. "I think being willing is the biggest thing."
He adjusted his grip on her waist. "I thought about taking lessons."
She pulled back to look at him, her eyes narrowed against the onslaught. "Why?"
"One of my teammates is getting married in August. My friend Tyler wanted to do a flash mob."
Aelin's face split into a smile. "Shut up. That's amazing. Your whole hockey team?" He nodded. "What song?"
His grin widened. "It's super romantic."
She laughed. "What song?"
"Pink Pony Club."
Aelin's hands tightened, her fingers gently tugging on his hair. "That's—you have to record it. If you don't send that to me, we can't be friends."
Ryan's pulse pounded in his ears. Is that what they were? Friends? He lifted a hand and swept the hair from her forehead. Aelin opened her left eye, squinting to look at him. Her lips parted, and the tip of her nose turned pink.
Just as he was searching for something else to fill the silence, her hand curled, and her fingernails gently scratched the back of his neck. Any rational thought evaporated. He was standing in the rain, soaked to the bone with a gorgeous woman. She was molded against him, their thin cotton fabric the only thing dulling the sensation of her soft curves.
Fun Ryan punched Old Ryan in the nuts and went for it.
Chapter
Twenty-One
