“I wouldn’t kiss you in front of all these people. Not for the first time, at least. You’d kill me if it ended up in the Facebook group. Some blurry photo and unwanted attention instead of an intimate moment between two people.”
“Thought a lot about this hypothetical first kiss, have you?” My voice was playful, but I could feel my pulse in my fingertips where they rested on his nape.
“Oh.” He grinned, and both dimples appeared. “You have no idea.”
Heat bloomed in my chest ... and lower. A heavy warmth settled below my belly button.
Maybe he was right. Maybe I didn’t want him to kiss me in front of all my friends. Or in any public place where we’d be exposed and judged. But maybe Ididwant him to kiss me.
And the fact that he’d thought about it, too, I didn’t—I couldn’t?—
My face must have revealed some of my panic because his steps faltered for a beat, and his dimples disappeared.
“Hey, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my?—”
“I’m not uncomfortable,” I hurried to reassure him. And it was true. He’d never once made me feel threatened or anything like that. But I did feel vulnerable, and that might have been worse.
“I’m not uncomfortable,” I repeated. “I just don’t understand why someone with their face on three different magazine covers in the Winn-Dixie checkout line?—”
“Is it just three this week?” he wondered idly.
I glared.
“Sorry.” He squeezed my hand. “Continue.”
I blew out a breath and admitted, “I just don’t know how to understand this. You and me.”
Ian glanced down briefly as a slight smile tilted up the corners of his lips. The pressure on the small of my back eased momentarily as I felt his hand flex against me before bringing us even closer together. Our thighs brushed, and I suddenly became aware of every point of contact.
The strength in his frame. The tight muscles under my hand. His steady, reassuring grip as he continued to hold me and move us effortlessly around the dance floor.
Then, so softly that I had to lean closer to hear, he said, “You’d give me a ride to the airport, if I asked. You’d change my tire if you found me on the side of the road. You’d do everything in your power to drag me out of a burning building, but you don’t trust me enoughto go on a date with me. To eat food together. It’s utterly fascinating.”
“I don’t want to be fascinating,” I told him, but I wasn’t sure I believed it.
“Too bad. I’m practically intrigued at this point. Next stop is enamored.”
Ian
Joan shook her head like she was resigned, but she smiled, clearly in spite of herself. But my words made her look away. Like I’d given her a compliment she didn’t know what to do with.
To ease her suffering, I admitted, “I’m trying to not be such a spoiled celebrity baby. Was that what you called me?”
That got her attention.
“I don’t think I used those words,” she said primly.
I chuckled. “I think you did, but that’s okay. You were right.”
“Ian, you don’t need to change yourself because I gave you shit about doing your own laundry.”
I shrugged, painfully aware of her palm resting on my shoulder, enjoying her touch a little too much for how close we were dancing.
“I like when you give me shit about stuff. It can be our love language. Quick, give me shit about something else.”
She stared at me incredulously, and I laughed outright.
“Come on. Hit me with something. I know you want to,” I teased.
