“Yes. About the other night.”
“What do we need to talk about? I got drunk at a burlesque club, and my friend took me home to sleep it off.”
“How much do you remember?”
“Most of it.”
“Okay, well, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For letting you believe it was leading somewhere it wasn’t.”
“What?” Keeley laughs through her response. “I never once believed that. I know you, Sal. And I know the kind of man you are. I never for a second thought you’d take me home and haveyour way with me. I merely hoped for it.” She grins and I bite back a groan. She’s not going to make this easy.
“Do you remember us dancing?”
Keeley frowns, her face contorting before she laughs. “We didn’t dance.”
“We did. We were on our way out when they announced the last song from the burlesque dancers. It was slow and…”Really fucking sultry. Not that I need to paint that picture for her. “You asked me to dance. Actually, no. You didn’t ask. You told me we were dancing and dragged me to the edge of the dance floor. You wrapped my arms around your waist and settled yours on my shoulders, leaving a space between us until I pulled you close.”
The more I say, the more I relive the moment, the fire it ignited when I touched her skin where her dress dipped low at the back.
We danced for the entire song, never once breaking our stare while my heart slammed in my chest. Just like it’s doing now.
“You smelled delicious,” Keeley whispers, and my eyes widen as she glances away, lost in thought.
“You remember that?”
“Yes. Flashes of it are coming back.”
“There’s not much more to say. When the song ended, everyone cheered and you told me you were ready to go. For real this time.”
“And the next thing I remember, I was waking up in front of the valet of your building.”
“That’s right.”
“And you wouldn’t sleep next to me.”
My shoulders drop. Of course she’d remember that part. “I thought, given the circumstances, it was best if we stayed in separate rooms.”
“And now?”
“Now?”
“Yes. What’s best now?” Her ocean eyes bore into mine as she stands confidently, forcing me to admit what I’d do if the circumstances were different. Only I don’t want to answer.
Because I have no fucking ideawhere it will lead.
Chapter Twenty-Four
KEELEY
If Sal’s trying to hide his guilt and regret, he’s doing a shitty job of it. While part of my memory is sketchy—like the fact that we freaking danced—I can remember everything that happened after we got to the apartment.Unfortunately.
I should be embarrassed, and for a moment the morning after, I was. I shamelessly begged him to sleep next to me and he rejected me—again—opting to sleep in the spare room. Which in hindsight is probably just as comfortable as his master suite, which begs the question. Why didn’t I sleep in the spare room?
That’s whereIsend my guests whenever I have someone staying over. To the spare room.
