Page 6 of Facing Off
For now.
I remember how I caught her attention last time. When I turned up my cockiness until she finally looked at me. So…
It’s raining, and I’m wearing a white T-shirt. This isperfect. I go a few feet in front of her and spread my arms, giving her a full view as if I’m presenting a gift.Me.I’m the gift!
Water slides down my arms. “Come on, darling,” I say with a wink. “Don’t you want to spend one magical night with me? I’ve got VIP club access. We’ll dance all night. I promise it’ll be worth it.”
She slows to a stop, and her eyes finally flick to me—and yeah, there it is. That spark again. Irritation? Maybe. “Can’t. I have two left feet.”
My mouth curves. “That won’t be a problem. I can carry you in my arms.”
To demonstrate how little of a problem that is, I roll up my sleeves. Sizable biceps. Wet cotton. The rest of my muscles are getting outlined pretty nicely.
Her mouth tightens in reaction. And…
There’s a dash of color rising high on her cheeks, I swear!
“No.”
Wait. Her refusal is dry, like she’s fighting a curse word and a groan at the same time. My arms drop with defeat. I don’t get it. “But why not?”
Her eyes flick briefly to the sky, like she’s weighing how much energy I’m worth.
“Because I’ve got chronic balance-related stomach issues, so if you make me dance, I’ll probably just vomit all over you.”
My smile drops. A bad feeling cramps my gut. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know that was a thing. That really sucks.”
“One day, if I ever get over this dreadful condition—” She flags down a cab and looks back at me. Her hair sways gently in the wind. “I’ll still never say yes.”
Her answer would sound even harsher if I didn’t catchthe tiniest movement. The corner of her mouth is twitching.
Before I can figure out what that means, a cab pulls up. She starts toward it, but I beat her there and open the door. More droplets of water zig-zag down my chest. My nipples are visible. I don’t say anything. Just wait.
Her eyes dip downward for half a second. Then she makes this tiny,almostsuppressed noise. More irritation? I can’t tell.
She looks up and catches me grinning. “Get home safe, Sonya.”
She hesitates.
Something crosses her face.
Then, she reaches out.
I freeze, my gaze going to her hand. This undefined emotion rises in my throat as she hands me her umbrella. “Keep it. Clearly, you don’t have one for when it rains.”
Before I can say anything, she shuts the door and the cab takes off. I stand there, watching it go for longer than I want to admit to anyone.
Afterward, when I tell Quinn what she said, he bends over and laughs his ass off. “She’s a ballerina, dude. She’s obviously fucking with you.”
A ballerina?
Why didn’t I know that?
That night, alarm bells go off in the background of my mind. That’s because I don’t go out to the club. Instead, I stay home alone with my cat, Diana, watching videos of Sonya dancing. They’ve been posted online by her ballet company.
“I don’t have a crush,” I tell Diana. “I just felt like staying in.”
My abdomen tightens, watching her on stage. Yeah, right, two left feet. She’s so talented I can’t stop watching.After a while, arousal thrums through my body. I’m having to adjust my pants.
