Page 55 of Two-Step
It’s not that simple. It can’t be that simple.
He looks down at me, his dark eyes soft and patient. I look away, over at my friends, who are hip-shaking like pros. For about two seconds, I let myself hate them.
Scowling, I look back at Beau. His mouth quirks. If he laughs at me, I’m going to knee him in the balls.
“Trust me, Iris.”
The invitation is low, intimate. My throat goes dry at his words, and I swallow. The last couple of weeks have brought down my guard. I’ve gotten comfortable with the routine, even if I’m still awkward and clumsy and mess up more than I get it right. But he’s made it easy even when I botch it. The temptation to trust him is just unfair. It’s almost as if someone is offering me a chance to learn how to fly like a bird. Thrilling. And equally impossible.
The shake of my head is involuntary.
“No?” he asks, the question almost a whisper.
Embarrassed, I don’t answer.
He lifts a brow at me. “You can shake your head, but not your hips?” When he says the wordhips,his hands press just a little harder into mine. My breath catches because I like the feel of them there.
“Does that make me crazy?”The song asks.
“Possibly,” I answer.
Beau gives me an amused frown. “Let’s just give it a try. Put your hands on my hips like this.”
I jolt like he’s told me to put my hand in his pants. But then I obey, and,oh God.It’s like taking the wheel of a revving sportscar. My hands hum with the power rolling off him. The steady rocking of his narrow hips is mesmerizing. I resist the urge to dig my fingers in or slide them back and grip his ass.
“Just move with me,” he urges.
I let go a breath and try to bounce. Just bounce to the rhythm. It’s all wrong.
“Who do you? Who do you-who do you-who-do you-think you-are? Ha-ha-ha.”Gnarls Barkley laughs.
I stop.
Beau shakes his head. “Keep going, but this time, keep it out of your knees and let go here.” He squeezes my hips again, and a shock of pleasure arcs between his hands. It’s so strong my stupid knees nearly give.
But I brace them and close my eyes. I don’t want him to see this effect he’s having on me, but with my eyes closed, the feel of my hands on him and his hands on me becomes everything. I feel the rhythm in his hips like a pulse, and his hands on my hips match that pulse.
The rhythm washes all around me. Not just in my hands and hips, but in my ears and eyelids. In my chest and thighs. Something clenched tight loosens.
“Ever since I was little, it looked like fun and it was no coincidence I’ve come.”
“That’s it,” Beau says, praise lacing his voice. I don’t dare open my eyes. I’m just moving from a place I don’t even understand. I don’t know what to call it, but maybe its name is Freedom.
I’m grooving out in this place, trying it on for size.
And the song ends.
I snap my eyes open and freeze. I have to. I can’t possibly move. Because Beau Landry is smiling like I’ve just shown him heaven’s driveway. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve met Henry Cavill. It was in the lobby at Shin Sushi, but still. The Man of Steel’s got nothing on Beau.
Down, girl,my inner voice cautions.
He’s not interested, and it wouldn’t matter if he were.This other voice sounds suspiciously like Moira’s, but that doesn’t make her wrong. Beau Landry isn’t interested. And what if he were? Like I have time to explore anything right now.
Like there’s ever been time.
It’s this sobering thought that allows me to drop my hands from Beau’s hips and step back.
“Good. That was good,” Beau says. “Loosening up—even just a little—always helps.”
