Page 29 of Wounded Dance
“The boy can be useful!” Dad added. He was clearly chuffed that his decision to take in Denham could benefit the family.
So Denham and I headed out the door. The days were still long, so it wasn’t even dark. We jumped into the Jeep and Denham cranked it up.
He talked me through the mechanics of driving as we rumbled down the road to the high school. My body fairly bounced with excitement. I was alone with Denham, about to drive for the first time, and at the high school too!
We pulled into the large lot, and Denham dropped the car into park and got out so we could switch places. As we passed each other at the back, he grabbed my arm. “You nervous?” he asked.
“A little,” I said.
His eyes caught mine and I felt that tickle again, like the sliver of grass on my skin. The rush he talked about when stealing. He was my wave to ride.
I got behind the wheel, scooting forward so I could reach the pedals. Before Denham could even buckle, I’d moved the gear and pressed the gas.
“Whoa!” Denham said as he was knocked against the back of the seat. “Now that’s what I call driving!”
We circled the lot, me alternately stomping the gas or slamming the brakes, until I felt I had whiplash. Denham encouraged the craziest moves, whooping and shouting for me to aim for the front doors and floor it.
When I finally put the car back in park, my throat was hoarse from laughing. I got out of the car so we could switch places again.
This time when we crossed paths, Denham clasped my waist, lifting me up and spinning me in a circle. The rush passed over me, no longer a tickle, but a wave, just like he said.
He lowered me slowly, my body sliding down his. When my face reached his, he leaned forward, and it happened. His lips met mine.
The kiss was lingering, careful, and quiet, the opposite of how we’d been in the car. I felt aglow.
When he let me go, I was warm with his attention, calm and happy.
“I shouldn’t do that,” he said, taking a step back.
“Why?” I asked. There was a promise in that kiss, a feeling that there was so much more. I wanted it all.
“I just shouldn’t,” he said. He ducked away and headed back to the driver’s seat.
I climbed into my side, refusing to look at him. I understood what he meant. We lived together. It wasn’t right.
But that didn’t stop me from wanting it.
Back in the rental car at the Alamodome with Blitz, I press my foot on the brake, gliding us to a stop. I’m not driving anything like I did that night with Denham. But I can’t compare the two experiences, and I will never speak of it.
There are some things that a woman keeps to herself, I realize. And my first lesson and my first kiss are things that need to be left in the past.
Chapter 12
Blitz leaves early the next morning for his flight to LA. I wander the hotel suite, wringing my hands with anxiety, until I pack for the private lesson with Gabriella.
It’s actually the first time I’ll have ever been alone with my own daughter. And Denham will be outside the building.
Maybe I should have canceled.
But it’s too late now, and I don’t have Gwen’s number anyway.
So a half hour ahead of time, I call the concierge like Blitz instructed and tell them I’m ready to go to the academy.
Downstairs, a driver in a plain slate blue SUV waits with my name in the window. The doorman opens the back door, but I shake my head. It’s too obvious when someone sits in the backseat that it isn’t a normal situation.
“Front, please,” I say.
The doorman obeys and opens the passenger door.
