I’m still chuckling when he pulls me close to his body, his hand on my lower back, his other holding our palms closely together. With his mouth right next to my ear, he asks, “Did you find that entertaining?”
“Very much so,” I answer as he pulls me in tighter. My chest is pressed against his, our legs tangling, and I honestly can’t tell where I begin and he ends. Our bodies fuse together, like magnets, drawing in, pulling, with no release.
It’s unexpected.
It’s damning.
It’s not a position I want to be in with JP, but it doesn’t seem like one I can get out of.
“So, me getting hurt and humiliated in front of the masses, that’s comical to you?”
“A little slapstick humor never hurt anyone. But it wasn’t what happened to you, it was your reaction.” I laugh softly as he moves me around the dance floor. We’re slowly swaying to the music, an instrumental version of Taylor Swift’sWildest Dreams, but the way he’s twirling me makes the room a blur, and I can’t focus on anything but us and only us.
The stillness in his breath as we float over the parquet floor.
The tight grip he has on my hand, guiding me to our next move.
The gentle whisper of his words over my ear as he speaks just low enough to keep our conversation private.
“And what about my reaction made you chuckle?” He releases me, twirls me out so my dress floats against the whoosh of wind, then yanks me back close to his chest. My breath catches in my lungs and my eyes widen from the elegant dance move I wasn’t expecting.
When I don’t answer right away, he lowers his lips closer to my ear and says, “I’m waiting, Kelsey.”
Waiting.
He’s waiting for... oh, an answer to his question.
What’s happening to me? One spin around the dance floor and I can’t seem to keep my mind straight.
My brain feels foggy, disrupted, disoriented. His warm palm slides to the spot just above the curve of my ass and all I can think about is... are people watching? Do they think we’re a couple? Is he going to lower his hand any farther?
I wet my lips and focus on the conversation. “Correct me if I’m wrong, butgolly goodnessdoesn’t seem like something that would ever come out of your mouth.”
“You’d be correct about that,” he answers, and then, to my utter surprise, he braces himself and dips me. My startled gasp makes him smile as he lifts me back up. “What did you expect me to say, though? That old fucking bastard just Tonya Harding-ed my ass, nearly cutting my dick off with the edge of his chair. I didn’t thinkmotherfuckerwas appropriate for the setting.”
The music slows, and so do we. It almost feels as though he created his own dance to this song, and he led me through it with precision and grace, something I didn’t think he had in him.
“Well, it was funny, is all,” I say, my ability to come up with a witty response completely gone as his hand slides up my spine. The music switches to another slow-paced song, and when I think our dance is over, he doesn’t let go. Instead, he continues to move us around as two cellists take centerstage and playWith or Without You.
It’s beautiful, the deep glide of the strings weaving through the gold room as the chandeliers dim, setting more of a romantic mood. I’ve been so irritated by Edwin and Genesis that I’ve completely neglected the romance of the night—not that there’s any romance between me and JP, but the ambiance offers a stunning setting for a first kiss.
“What are you thinking about?” JP asks. “I can practically see the wheels in your head turning.”
“The ballroom is beautiful. I’m finally taking a moment to appreciate it.”
“It is,” he says softly. “The food, the décor, the band. It’s the same every year, and even though it benefits the children, I know a lot of couples come to this event just for the experience.”
“I can see why. It’s all so whimsical.”
“Is this what you envisioned the night being like?”
I shake my head gently. “No, I didn’t envision being ditched by my date, then finishing the night dancing with you.”
“I meant with the décor, the feeling, the mood. I know being here, in my arms, with the one person who repulses you the most wasn’t at the forefront of your mind.”
The way he said that, the dejection in his tone, actually makes me feel bad. He might annoy me and he might irritate me, now more than ever, but if I strip away his defense mechanism of acting like an ass, I know there’s a good man under that sarcastic wit.
“You... you don’t repulse me, JP.”
