“Grace, I’m Knead.”
For a few seconds she just blinked, like the words weren’t computing. And then realization dawned and all the blood drained from her face.
We had flirted. We had pestered each other. We had definitely singled each other out. And all along, it was me.
“I can’t be here.” She moved to go, but it was half-hearted, like she knew I’d block her. Which I did. I side-stepped when she did, and then took a step back, not wanting to scare her.
“Please don’t. Please don’t go, Grace. I’ll leave if you need me to. But let’s talk about this first.”
The front door clicked open and a woman walked in, shyly greeting the guy who’d been waiting on her. Together, they headed into the dance, not even looking in our direction.
We were alone.
The blood was coming back into her face, and now Grace blushed red like I’d just found her secret diary. In a way, I guess I had. Her gaze ping-ponged everywhere until it landed on my shirtsleeve, and she frowned. “I wrinkled your shirt.” She smoothed out the material she’d manhandled when she hauled me out here before giving up and letting me go.
Not a wrinkle had been eradicated, but I did like the attempt. Too much. I liked her hair in dark waves. I liked the frame of her lashes on her cheeks when she looked down, avoiding my gaze. I liked it even better when she looked up at me. She had dark, icy blue eyes that could freeze you out or make you sweat. Right now, they were freezing me out. Somehow, she could look fierce and blush at the same time.
She lifted her chin. “Okay, fine. Let’s talk about this.”
Chapter 5 – Grace
Dean was Knead. Of course he was. Dean Kinney. Dean K. It was a letter scramble. I was highly familiar with those. I’d even say I loved them up until this very moment. “I have so many questions, Dean.”
“I know.”
“You created an anagram with your name. Just like Voldemort.”
Dean gave a nervous laugh. “Hadn’t thought of it that way, but yeah, just like Lord Voldemort fromHarry Potter. I know this doesn’t look good.”
“It really doesn’t.” Part of me didn’t want to know why he would do something like this. I generally tried not to wonder what Dean was thinking while he had a running parade of beautiful, successful, witty, vivacious women in his life who never made it more than a few dates with him. Someone like Dean did not need a dating app for the socially inept. Yes, GoWithFriends had a coolness factor, but it was still, at its most basic level, a kiddie pool for those too scared to swipe right.
I pressed my hands together in the folds of my dress so I wouldn’t be tempted to strangle him. Oh, who was I kidding?They were pressed together because I was cold and shivering from shock. I’d never understand why my body always did this to me. Wasn’t fight or flight supposed to kick in? This felt more like faint. Faint and shake with bad circulation and disappointment. Why did he have to be Knead? Why couldn’t it be someone new, someone I could have a meet-cute with at an adorable bakery or lock eyes with across a dance floor? Or, at the very least, someone who could look at me and not just see a problem to be solved?
“Did you pay someone off to get put in my group? Why would you pay someone just to spy on me?”
Dean’s eyebrows furrowed. “I was never spying on you. And no, I didn’t pay anyone off. I don’t know what you think I do with my money, but I don’t pay people to do illegal things and risk their jobs.”
“How am I the bad guy here?”
“You’re not.” He put his palms up in surrender. “I just wish you’d see me for once.”
“What? Your arm and neck?”
Dean reached out and took me by the shoulders, a familiar look of long-suffering on his face. His hands radiated a warmth my body could never replicate. “Grace, look at me.”
I complied, reluctantly. Dean’s gaze was magnetic. I loved his brown eyes, his full lips, his just-right nose. All of it together as a facial package was patently unfair. Once upon a time, I hadn’t given it a second thought. Ah, the good old days.
“I can explain.”
“Okay, then. Explain. If you didn’t bribe anyone, how did you get in? Did Carmen help you?” My sister-in-law worked for GoWithFriends. Her position didn’t have anything to do with groups, but I wouldn’t put it past him to ask her.
As if Dean could read my mind, his frown deepened. “I didn’t do this on purpose. Carmen doesn’t even know I joined. I just heard from her and Isaac that you signed up, and it sounded fun, so I decided to try it out. The algorithm put me in your group. I was as shocked as you.”
“But you said nothing.”
“I said a lot of things. As Knead. And all of them were true.” He nodded slowly, like he knew I was going through each interaction in my mind, and he was glad.
There was the time he admitted he didn’t want to say goodnight to me. Or when he joked that he liked older women. I’d called him a dastard, and that blew up the group and turned into a hilarious vocabulary lesson. He’d privately messaged me after and told me my expansive knowledge of the English language was one of the things he liked best about me. I’d fallen asleep smiling.
