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“Well, I can’t do everything for you or with you in one night—not to mention, I have no idea what you want to do to your hair or how to do it—but I happen to love yoga, and dancing, too.”
She choked on her dr
ink. “Yoga?”
“Absolutely. It’s great for core strength.”
“Let me get this straight,” she said slowly. “You want to spend the night with me, not naked, but doing…yoga?”
“Or dancing.”
“Dancing,” she squeaked, repeating him again.
He nodded, taking her glass out of her hand for the second time that night. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Right now?” she blurted out.
Catching her hand, he tugged her to her feet and didn’t let go. “There’s no time to waste.”
“Why not?” she asked, confused.
“Because we might not be having sex, but my rule still applies. One night. One time, then I leave, and I don’t come back.” He touched her shoulder, skimming his fingers over her arm. She shivered, swaying closer. “I can’t come back, Kass.”
“Why not?” She licked her lips. “I mean, if we’re not…you know…then what’s the harm? If we’re just friends, then what’s the worst that could happen?”
“I could want more,” he admitted, his brow wrinkled as he pulled her into his arms, one hand holding hers, the other on her lower back. “With you, it would be easy to want more.”
She hesitated, her hand on his biceps. “And that would be so bad?”
“Yes,” he said without a hint of doubt. “Ready?”
She nodded, a pang of pain shooting through her, which made no sense at all. Why was she sad that Wyatt Hamilton had admitted to finding her attractive, and that he could want something with her? Maybe because he also said wanting her would be bad. It wasn’t too crazy that she was sad about that, right? “Wait, we don’t have music.”
“I don’t need any.”
And then he swept her in a circle, moving around the coffee table effortlessly and with a grace she’d only ever seen him portray on the field. He moved with her in his arms like he’d been made to dance instead of throw a ball, and that only made him about a million times more attractive than before.
“You take lessons?” she asked, breathlessly, as he twirled her around her tiny home.
“Had to. My mom made me.” He dipped her, holding her close to his abs so she didn’t fall. This was it. This was where she wanted to die. Pressed against Wyatt Hamilton’s abs. “She said it would be as important as a well-rounded education would be in the future.”
He picked her back up, and she breathed quickly, her hair flying at the sexy maneuver. “She was right.”
“Maybe,” he admitted. “You’re a natural, too.”
“I’m not so sure about that. I’m just following your lead.”
He grinned, picking her up and spinning in a circle. She bent her legs in the air, mimicking what she’d seen on television automatically. “That’s kind of how dancing works. It’s a lot like sex, in that way.”
She gasped, gripping his shoulders tightly. “What?”
“One partner takes the lead, the other follows.”
She almost giggled but managed to hang on to her dignity by a small thread. “True,” she managed to say without sounding like a schoolgirl. “That is how it works.”
“Indeed,” he said, his voice low as he set her down on her feet again.
“What else did your mother have you learn?” she asked to fill the silence.
