Page 35 of The Rules

Dani glanced around the room at the audience of all of their mutual friends, and her flirtatious mood slipped. “You don’t think that might be suspicious?”

He leaned in, letting his breath tickle her ear. “First truth: I don’t think anyone will suspect we’re fucking because of a slow dance.”

Dani felt her nostrils flare. “You’re such a poet, Dylan.”

“You said no lines.” He smiled his Good Boy smile, the one where he looked all innocent and cute.

“Okay,” she said, sufficiently exhausted by his verbal gymnastics. “One dance, but again, this is feeling awfully familiar and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“That’s the best part about this thing,” he said, leading her out to the dance floor. He took her hand and let his other fall safely on her hip. “It’s familiar. Easy.”

Wait. Was that true? She’d always assumed Dylan preferred the thrill of new things, given his track record of a different face for every occasion. In fact, it had crossed Dani’s mind that he may get bored of this arrangement before she finished her eight dates. Lands already conquered and all that. But there was nothing disinterested about the way he slipped his thumb under the hem of her shirt when he turned her.

“Careful,” she whispered. He moved his fingers to a more innocuous place on her lower back, his eyes dancing with amusement, and another thought jumped up and waved its hands. It was the secret thing. That was why he was so into this. He was getting off on the thrill of hiding.

Whatever. Dylan’s motivations didn’t really matter. They were each getting their due.

But when Dylan spun her again, Cat and Josh stared back at them, wearing matching perplexed expressions.

“So if they don’t suspect a thing,” she said, nodding in the direction of their friends. “What do you think those looks are for?”

“Who cares? Everyone is drinking.”

“Cat’s not. She’s drinking ginger-ale, and she’s watching us.”

“Let her look.” He leaned in, his breath warming her ear. “You want me to kiss you right here, make her eyes bug out?”

Dani’s cheeks flamed. “Don’t you dare. Maybe we need more rules regarding public appearances. I sort of thought they were obvious.”

“No letting on that I have intimate knowledge of that pretty little face you make when you—”

“Dylan!” She slapped a palm on his chest, fighting the urge to leave it there and explore the firm ridges of his pecs.

“Chill, Dani.” He laughed. “Look, they’re back to staring at each other.”

Okay, they were. Maybe she was overreacting. It wasn’t like she and Dylan didn’t have enough history to take a casual turn on the dance floor with each other. She’d danced with Josh at the wedding, Shawn on the booze cruise they took last spring. She’d served as Emma’s husband’s official dance partner at the three weddings and two birthday parties they’d attended while Emma was pregnant. Why should dancing with Dylan be any different?

Because Josh, Shawn, and Adam didn’t undress her with their eyes on every turn, and they certainly didn’t talk about her O face.

“How was your date the other night?” she asked, suddenly obsessed with picturing Dylan with some other woman.

Dylan’s eyes danced. “I forget now, wasn’t there a rule about this?”

“What?”

“Asking about dates.”

Dani thought back to the original agreement. It had gone off track, but she didn’t remember a gag order in place. She was too nosy to agree to something like that. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m thinking I might propose one,” he said, spinning her too fast.

Her drink sloshed onto her fingers and she wiped them on his jeans. “I’m thinking I might veto that proposal.”

He laughed. “Why’s that?”

“We should be comfortable enough with the arrangement that talking about dates with other people shouldn’t affect us. We’re friends. Friends talk.”

“What if I don’t want to talk about it?”

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