Page 15 of The Weight Of Falling
“Not me. I’m more of a fade-into-the-background type of person.”
Joel regards me silently for a beat. “Says who?”
The online personality test I took a couple of years ago. My friends. My family. That small voice in my head. “People,” I say vaguely.
His hand shifts slightly, just enough to pull me an inch closer. I’m acutely aware of the heat of his hand through the fabric of my dress. “You’re not someone who fades into the background,” he says gruffly. “You stand out, Kenzie. You might not want to, but you do.”
When I lift startled eyes to his, he says thoughtfully, “I’m starting to suspect other people see a different version of you.”
“Nope,” I deny. “They see me.”
“I doubt they see what I experienced in that storeroom.”
I suck in a sharp breath. “You are not, under any circumstances, to bring that up!”
An entertained look skates across his face. “I can’t imagine a time when I won’t bring it up.”
The memory of our kiss now lingers between us like a silent dance partner. My mind is filled with the feel of his lips on mine. The taste of him. The controlled strength he showed in the intimacy of that pitch-black room. The charge in the air grows heavier.
He dips his head to whisper in my ear, “Just so I’m prepared, are you planning to maul me again once this dance is over?”
My eyes widen. “Stop talking about it right now.”
“All right,” he says easily.
A niggle of suspicion steals over me. He agreed a little too quickly. “Good.”
A chuckle rustles in his throat. “You can’t stop me thinking about it though.”
Words stall on my tongue. Impossible man!
The faint twitch of his mouth lets me know he’s all too aware of the effect of his words.
It takes me a second or two to realize that for the last few minutes, I haven’t been paying attention to anyone’s eyes on us. Even the knots in my stomach have loosened.
It’s only him and me, his big, warm hand spanning the curve of my spine, his eyes holding mine.
Was that his intention? Did he tease me to distract me?
We dance for a while in silence. Joel leads with practiced control, shifting us gently in a turn, and my body follows his lead without question. I am so very careful to leave breathing space between us, as if I don’t know what it’s like to feel the hard contours of his body pressed against mine.
I dart a quick glance over to Sofia and Tess. Which is a monumental mistake. They’re watching us with such delighted fascination I feel a flush creeping up my neck.
“So that’s your ex-boyfriend, the guy you were talking to?” Joel asks, breaking the silence.
“Bobby. Yes.”
“Hmm.”
Because hishmmsounded faintly judgmental, I add, “A perfectly nice man.”
“Ah,nice,” Joel murmurs. “The death knell of any relationship.”
My brow furrows, but before I can say anything, he asks, “How long?”
“How long what?”
“How long did your relationship last?”
