Page 65 of Where We Began

I'd just yelled at Dominic about my goals, how they were still the same. But here I am, ready to throw all my effort in planning this party down the drain. Taking his sleeve, I pull him inside. “Do you know how to dance?”

He chuckles, shrugging lightly. “There were a few balls at school. I know a couple steps.”

I pull him all the way back inside the house. Miles sees us coming; he's talking into his walkie-talkie, but he stops, staring at us like we're ghosts. He definitely thought I was trying to escape. Now he looks frustrated, and I smile at the idea of him raising an alarm needlessly.

I take Dominic towards the middle of the ballroom, where the floor is so mirrored I feel like I'm standing on top of a clone of myself. “It's good you can dance,” I say, “because I don't have any clue how. You lead, I'll follow, and we'll show these people that they made the right choice by coming tonight.”

He sweeps me into his arms, obeying my wish. I've seen him move before—that time in the hallway, when he cornered me against the wall. I'm aware of his agility, his powerful speed. I think I'm prepared for what he's capable of, until he grips one of my hands, putting it on his chest.

His fingers swing down to my lower back, leveraging me so that I follow his movements on the dance floor. The music is gentle; stringed instruments twinkling through the expensive speakers arranged around the room. The Bradleys could've afforded a live band, but it was nice to have one less thing to arrange.

As we dance, I know people are staring at us. I don't focus on them, though. I'm too caught up in the liquid heat in Dominic's eyes. His grip is firm, but welcome. He makes me feel like I'm the only person in the room. There's a constant half smile playing over his lips, and it makes them tempting. I know they'd be soft if I kiss them.

We twirl and, though I warned him I'm no dancer, he prevents me from missing a step. He could lift me off the ground if he wanted to, but he does his best to create a pace that I can follow, to hold me up when my ankles twist the wrong way on my heels, to make every stumble that I have look like it's part of our dance.

My heart is racing. I can taste it in my mouth. It's filling me up. I'm one big pounding heart being hugged by his muscular arms. All I can see is his handsome face, the dark blanket of beard over his solid jaw. When I inhale, my stomach presses into the rock wall of muscle that is his torso. The buttons on his vest dig through my dress and into my skin. It's such a short moment, but I know I'll be thinking about it later tonight, maybe the next few nights.

A few other couples have joined us; they dance on my peripheral. But like everyone else, they don't matter to me. I told Dominic I wanted to do this so that people would be glad they'd come. Dancing people are happy, happy people are more likely to do what you want. I learned that in one of the Business 101 books in the library.

I hope several happy guests approach the Bradleys, wanting to bring their business to their banks. That will calm Annie down, according to Silas, and keep her from taking her rage out on me.

My long-term goal is to save my own skin.

But my short-term goal is

to embrace the distraction that Dominic brings when he touches me.

It's working. I'm lightheaded with lust. I so badly want to kiss him, but I worry with all the attention that it might be a bad idea. I don't know what his parents would think about us kissing.They might not want us dancing together,I think, suddenly uneasy. Could my impulsiveness mess things up? What if Annie gets so angry at the sight of us together that she lashes out, no matter how the party goes?

As we slow down, I search the room, looking for her face. But I don't see Annie, I see someone else: Kara. She's watching me from the sidelines. The glass in her hand is empty. Whatever she grabbed, she drank it already. I imagine her sucking it down the way that I had to make myself feel better.

Then I see another face—Dominic's uncle. Vahn and Kara look nothing alike. But as different as they are, they're watching Dominic and me with the exact same expression.

Disgust.

- Chapter 27 -

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