Page 5 of Perfectly Complicated
He smiles, waiting for me to introduce myself, while my heart does this weird, unfamiliar thing in my chest—it skips a beat.
“Rourke,” I say, trying his name out. “Well, it’s good to meet you.” I start backing toward my table because I honestly don’t know what to make of his attention—or the way my heart is still beating wildly.
“Wait,” he says, following me.
I stop and tilt my head, unsure what else he could possibly want. Isn’t the performance over?
He glances nervously at the floor before meeting my gaze. “Can I at least find out who I sang with tonight?”
I stare at him for a moment. This feels strangely like putting myself out there, and that’s exactly what I’m not ready for yet—even if it is with a guy who saved me from total humiliation. “What if I told you I don’t give out my name to strangers?”
“Oh, so I’m a stranger now?” That hint of a grin returns, like he finds my elusiveness amusing. “Okay, what would it take, then? Please don’t say another karaoke song, because I’m pretty sure no one wants to hear me twice in one night.” He crosses his arms, which only serves to highlight the fact that he has really nice biceps. “How about this: you ask me a question, I’ll ask you one, and then we’re not strangers anymore.”
“Alright,” I say reluctantly. I should walk awayright now, back to my friends, and my safe little life. Instead, I meet his eyes. “Do you always rescue random women at karaoke bars, or am I special?”
He laughs. “First time, actually. You looked terrified up there.”
“Iwasterrified.”
“I know. That’s why I couldn’t just sit there. What made you get up there in the first place?”
I glance back at my table where Gabriella and Madi are watching us. “My friends. They think I need to get out more.”
“And do you?” he asks. “Need to get out more?”
“That’s two questions,” I point out.
“You’re right.” That smirk returns. “Your turn.”
“What do you do for a living? I mean, other than work out?” I nod toward his arms.
“That’s pretty much all I do,” he says vaguely. “What about you?”
“I work with children,” I say, watching his reaction. Specifically, anything that says he’s allergic to kids.
His eyebrows rise with interest. “No kidding? That takes a special kind of person. So what’s your name, mystery woman? Are we finally more than strangers?”
“I guess we are.” I’m still feeling completely out of practice at this, but something about the way he’s looking at me makes me want to stay here. “I’m Janie Bennett.”
“Janie Bennett,” he repeats, then glances at the dance floor where couples are slowly filling the space now that the DJ finally got the music working again. “So, Janie Bennett, want to talk more on the dance floor?”
I shake my head. “I’m pretty much two left feet.”
“Good. Me too.”
I tilt my head, puzzled. “You know that was not a yes.”
“I know,” he replies. “But it also wasn’t a no.”
I open my mouth to make some excuse, but this time, I can’t.It should be so easy to turn him down, but this stranger went out of his way for me, and the least I can do is give him one dance.
“Consider it payment for the karaoke rescue,” he offers, like he senses my hesitation. “No strings attached.”
Dang it all, if he isn’t convincing too.
Against my better judgment, I take his hand and let him lead me to the dance floor. I already know this is a mistake that will come with complications. Confusing, heart-altering complications.
When he splays his hand across my lower back, I forget everything else.
