“I am confident,” I exclaim. “I have 98 percent accuracy on a moving target. I can break a wristlock in under a second.” I scowl. “I beat you up just the other morning, didn’t I?”
He’s grinning now. “I recall being on top.”
My skin is washed in heat. I recall it too. In fine detail. Every lash framing his eyes, every breath from his lips, every shift of his thigh between mine.
“I feel most confident when I’m doing physical activity, I guess. That’s my comfort zone.”
“What about dancing? That’s physical activity. It’ll help you feel good. Feeling sexy is the first step on the way to having good sex.” He tips his head to the dance floor where a band is tuning up.
I blow out a long breath. Talking about this with Tristan makes me feel electric and weird, like I’m running on a narrow trail with a steep cliff on one side. I watch him take a long, slow sip of beer, and the way he licks his lips after makes that feeling balloon inside me.Nope.Not going there.
There’s a guy with dark blond hair on the other side of the dance floor. He’s looking my way. He’s attractive, but not intimidatingly so.
“What about him?”
The words spill out, and Tristan’s gaze flicks to the other side of the bar.
“Which one?”
“The one with the beard.”
He makes a considering sound, like he’s weighing the guy, but I can’t judge his reaction.
“What would you do?”
“Me? I don’t really like blonds, but he has nice arms,” Tristan drawls.
I snort while sipping my beer, and liquid clogs my nose. Tristan grins, looking devilish under the golden glow of the lights. “Hot. Totally hot. Don’t look now. I think he’s turned on.”
I moan, then cough.
“Yup,” Tristan says, glancing at the guy. “Fully erect.Hold on, can you make your eyes water a bit more? If you could be a bit redder—yeah like that.”
I fold my arms and bury my head in them. “I hate you so much.”
He pats my arm unconvincingly. “There, there. But you are feeling less nervous, aren’t you?”
“I suppose,” I mutter.
“So go ask him to dance.”
“There’s only one small problem. I can’t dance. I don’t know how.”
“Honestly, Bailey. Whatwerethey teaching you in public school?” The teasing grin on his face is so very Tristan, and my stomach flutters.
Thisis how I’d want a first date to feel. Easy, full of laughter and secrets. With a guy who looks like Tristan—so handsome you can’t look away, with a quick smile and broad shoulders and nice hands.
“Canyoudance?”
He looks affronted. “Of course I can.”
“Great.” I push up out of my chair and straighten my top. “You can teach me. Then I’ll ask him. Let’s go.”
His eyes widen briefly before he sighs and tips the rest of his beer into his mouth. He slams it on the table and licks the final drop off his lips. Heat curls in my stomach as I watch.
“Going to need that,” he says, pushing up to his full height.
“Why?”
