Page 73 of Rough
Leaning past her, I reach for the dashboard and turn the volume up on the radio. Then, I grip her waist, noting my fingers can practically touch wrapped around her like this, and set her on her feet. “Never been more serious. Come dance with me,Bets.” She’s shocked and surprised and I know she doesn’t know what to make of me, so I add in, “Please?”
A look passes over her face, and for the first time, I’m watching my lifelong friend get shy and embarrassed. She mutters something, so I lean down to hear her.
“What’d you say?”
Pushing her loose hair over her shoulder, she looks up at me, daring me to tease her. “I don’t know how to do it.” Her teeth are clenched, and I do my best not to grin at her. Don’t want her thinking I’m laughing at her.
I take her hand and step her away from the truck a few feet. “Well, that’s what you got me for. I’m gonna show you.”
“This is silly. You don’t wanna dance with me.”
“Put your arms around my neck,” I tell her, refusing to argue. I tug the hand I’m holding up to my shoulder and release it to let her settle. When she doesn’t lift the other one, I cup her elbow on that arm and guide it up.Damn, I never realized how short she was.
Betsy is frozen, her body staying as far from me as possible. This won’t do, so keeping a hand resting on her arm to make her stay put, I step closer and bring our bodies flush, her chest pressing against mine just under my pecs.
“I’m gonna put my arms around you, and when I start movin’, just sway your body with mine. It’s easy as pie,” I murmur, reaching around her to place a hand in the curve of her lower back, and the other flat between her shoulder blades. “There ya go. You ready?”
“No,” she snips at me, sounding defensive. I’ve known her long enough to know when she gets cranky with me, it’s only because she’s unsure. A way to feel like she’s got control of the situation.
Humming along with the song, I tilt my head down and lean my cheek against her temple, gripping her tighter. I start to sway my body from side to side without moving my feet just yet.
“Slow dancin’ is the easiest kind of dancin’ to do. Doesn’t require any skill, just movin’ together,” I murmur into her hair, enjoying this more than I expected to.
We keep this up for a few moments until she relaxes her body into mine and tightens her arms around my neck. I slip my hand up a bit and use it to guide her further into the step, this time shifting my foot to the side and pulling her along with me.
I do it again as the song blares out from my truck, the casual beat of the song making my steps easy to keep in tempo. Her fingers curl into the base of my neck, the sigh of contentment releasing on a soft breath against my skin at the base of my throat.
“See?” I whisper, laying my head heavier against hers like we’re in a hug. “Nothin’ to it.”
She nods her head slightly but doesn’t say a word as we continue to dance together on the side of the road. Our cheeks slide apart when she leans forward and lays her head on my chest, right above my heart. Dropping my chin to the top of her head, I inhale and pick up the tune again and continue to hum the song as we dance.
The song ends and another slow one follows, neither of us pulling away, adjusting our movements only slightly to keep in sync with the song. I find myself running my hand up and down her spine slowly, noticing that every now and then, she shudders out a breath like she’s trying to stop herself from crying.
By the end of the third song, we’re not stepping from side to side anymore, just standing in place and shifting slightly together. Staying locked around my neck, she lifts her head and tilts her chin to look up at me.
“Easy as pie?” she asks me softly.
My eyes drop to her mouth, and I feel a sudden urge to rest my lips against hers but stop myself. I have a girlfriend, and although we aren’t long for the world, it wouldn’t be right to kiss Betsy at this moment.
Instead, I choose to press my lips to her forehead and give her a smile.
“Easy as pie. You’ll be an expert in no time.”
She doesn’t laugh, still staring at me like she’s waiting for something. Something I can’t give her, but desperately want to. Whatever she’s looking for, she finds and gives me a weak smile back.
Letting me go, I immediately feel the chill and silently curse the radio for not playing another song to allow us to keep going.
“Thank you, Remy.”
Turning away from me, she picks up her skirt and slips back into the truck. I follow a minute later after I suck in a few deep mouthfuls of air, then climb into my seat.
We make the rest of the drive quietly, Betsy watching out the window. It’s so dark out, I know she can’t see a thing, but it gives me the chance to see her reflection in the glass.
And the smile that’s lifting the corners of her mouth.
Chapter Thirty-One
Betsy
