“You ready?” she whispers just loud enough for me to hear.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
She looks down at my shoes, a pair of black dress shoes that I usually wear on away games with the team because coach says to be successful you have to dress for success. Corny, I know, but I find there’s truth to it. I find myself feeling more confident, standing a little taller on the days I’m all decked out in my Sunday best.
Her eyes skate up my legs, taking in my dress pants. All the way up, past my button-down shirt, and they land squarely on the tie I picked out just for her. It’s a plaid tie with hints of brown and gold honey. Colors that remind me of her eyes.
Her gaze finally lands on mine. A smile plays on her lips. “Looks like you brought out the big guns.”
“Told you I had fancy dancing shoes.”
“I thought you were lying.”
I chuckle at her bluntness, an attribute I greatly admire. “I would never lie to you.”
She raises one eyebrow, studying me intently. I hold her gaze, letting my sincerity bleed through. Her gaze softens. “You look very handsome.”
Her compliment catches me off guard in the most delicious way. “Thank you.” Now it’s my turn to let my gaze fully take her in. I didn’t have a chance earlier, my mind too preoccupied with her nervous energy.
She’s wearing a flowing skirt that stops just below her knees. My eyes trail down to find her in a pair of sexy-as-hell high heels. I don’t know how I missed it before, but now that I see her calves on full display, I’m positive I won’t be able to tear my eyes away from them for the rest of the night.
I hear her giggle, but I’m still transfixed.
“My eyes are up here,” she teases.
“I know.” I can’t help it; no matter how hard I try, I can’t get my eyeballs to move. It isn’t until I feel a soft caress under my chin, gently pushing upwards, that my eyes finally leave her sexy-as-hell legs.
“Friends, remember?”
Her question has me doing a slow blink, like the cogwheels in my brain need a minute to start rotating again.Friends?The thoughts I’m having about this woman right now have no place in thefriendscategory. No, they are downright dirty and only belong in theI want to fuck your brains outcategory, but slowly those cogs start spinning and I remember where we are and the conversation we just had.
Friends. I’m starting to loathe that word, and it’s all my own doing. This is what I asked for, and apparently the universe has decided to grant my wish.Fuck me.
I clear my throat and realize we’ve missed the whole introduction to the class and the instructor is already onto the first step.
I reach my hand out and Millie clasps mine just like the instructor is showing us. Then I wrap my other hand around her waist. My hands are suddenly clammy and nerves erupt in my stomach.
Here goes nothing.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Millie
Ifigured a hockey player would be pretty decent at dancing. I don’t know why. Maybe I thought all that footwork on the ice would translate onto the dance floor, but boy was I wrong.
Rowan Pierce is single-handedly the worst dancer I’ve ever seen. Granted, I haven’t seen a lot of people doing the two-step or swinging their hips, but I think it’s safe to say that Rowan would be top ten in the two-left-feet category.
He’s currently working on how to master the side step and has somehow managed to step on my shoes more times than not. Suddenly he spins, which is not at all what we are supposed to be practicing, and slams right into me because he went left instead of right.
Hmph.Scratch that, he’s definitely top five in the two-left-feet category.
“Shit. I’m sorry! Are you okay?” His eyebrows pull together with worry. All I want to do is reach out and smooth the creased skin between his eyes.
“I’m fine, Rowan. But why are you spinning? We’re supposed to be working on side steps and stepping backwards.”
His shoulders drop in defeat. “I thought maybe the spin would be easier.” He looks like a little boy who just got told he can’t have ice cream before dinner with how much he’s pouting. It would be adorable if my feet weren’t so sore from the heels and him stepping on them so much.
“I’m sorry I suck at this so bad.”
