Page 76 of Broken Vows

“Yes. I’m still working with your firm, we’ll still take the usual meetings, and—”

“Ah. Wait.” A smile grows, pushing back the nagging feeling of keeping this hidden. “Does this mean you still have to learn how to dance?”

He laughs and pulls me into his lap. I giggle at the sudden movement and moan at the way his hands slide up my body.

“Fucking dance lessons…”

33 Theo

“Welcome, welcome, Theo, amazing to meet you!” The dance instructor, Nikolai, says, his Russian accent thick, his smile bright, his slim body radiating with more energy than a uranium fuel rod.

In Nikolai’s private, way too bright mirror-laden dance studio about twenty minutes away from my parents’ home, I shake his hand while trying to push out of my mind that I’m going to be dancing for the next six hours.

Dancing. This is what my life has come to.

But, my life has also become so much more. Lexie. Ever since I showed up at her place two weeks ago, I haven’t left. I mean I’ve technically left every morning to get dressed at my studio, but other than that, I haven’t left her side except for work. Every second of the day, I want to bury myself inside her, watch her smile, and sleep with her on my chest.

This is all new. But at the same time, part of me has been in love with her since I was barely legal enough to drink. She’s branded into me, carved into my soul. We laugh. We fuck. We sleep. Jesus Christ, the sleeping. I’ve been chasing rest my whole life and finally found it.

I don’t know why this pure angel is with me, but she is. She sees past the monsters, past the worst parts of me, and accepts me exactly as I am. I know I don’t deserve her—someone like me, carrying this much darkness, doesn’t deserve her light. And yet, she gives it to me anyway.

Nikolai has me sit on the studio floor as he talks about posture, breathing and a bunch of other bullshit that I don’t want to listen to, because I’m going to be stuck in this room without Lexie for six hours. The second this is over, I’m rushing out of here and crashing the wedding in downtown Boston she’s working for Justin when his bout of what he thought was food poisoning was actually appendicitis. Of course, it sucked for him, but the logistics of me and Lexie being in Boston at the same time could not be more perfect.

You’d think I’d have had enough, but I haven’t. I’m completely insatiable. On the five-hour ride here from New York, I raised the privacy window and we christened every seat in the SUV. Everyone, Michael included, thinks me and Anna are still getting married. But he’s paid for loyalty and discretion, not opinions.

He never even batted an eye.

The dance lessons go better than I expected, and even though I won’t need them now, canceling would raise major red flags with our families. I hate that I have to keep Lexie hidden. Anna keeps reassuring me that she’s close to finalizing the paperwork, and I know these things take time, but the second it’s done, I’m telling everyone who’ll listen that Lexie’s mine.

Lexie. Is. Mine.

I hate the flicker of hesitation that comes with this thought. Lexie’s too good for me. I already know this. But I’m going to do whatever I can to be the man she deserves.

A few hours later, I roll up to the venue where Lexie’s working with my sharp dark gray suit, a generous bottle of wine as a gift for the couple I don’t even know, and stroll into the reception area. I scan the long white tables, the groups of people chatting and drinking, the silver tray carrying wait staff weaving in between tables when I finally see her in the corner in a dress, light sweater, and heels, and I stop breathing.

She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

When her eyes meet mine, they grow wide and a grin crosses her face. She whispers something to a staff and then makes her way to me. “Theo,” she says in a hushed tone. “You can’t be in here.”

“And yet, here I am,” I say, drinking in the way she’s beaming at me. “Relax. No one will ever know I’m not a guest. You’re about to witness a master at work.”

She shakes her head, laughing. “Your confidence truly knows no bounds.” Something catches her eye and she sighs. “I have to help someone. Behave,” she adds pointedly. “I mean it.”

“I always behave.” Like now, when every part of me wants to smack that juicy ass of hers, but I refrain. As she walks away, I start making my rounds. I grab a glass of champagne, chat with a few guests, tell some of them I’m a second cousin of the bride, tell others that I’m a friend of the groom. For an hour, I follow Lexie’s movements, earning amused glances, eye rolls, and the occasional head shake—each one feeling like a small, well-earned victory.

When the DJ calls for guests to join the couple on the dance floor, I beeline for her. “Care to witness my new moves?” I ask. “Nikolai has turned me into a pro.”

“No,” she says, her brows creasing. “People will see us.”

“Do you think I care what these people think?” I grab her hand and lead her out to the dancefloor.

She glances across the room, at me, back at the room, and then sighs. “Fine. But I’m not going to make this easy on you.” She smiles. Bright. Warm. Teasing.

My beautifully sinister Lexie is going to make this hard as hell on me.

I can’t fucking wait.

The moment our bodies touch, everything in me feels right. We’re on a crowded dancefloor, but within moments, everyone around us fades away. She relaxes, shielded by the dancing guests, and sways effortlessly in my arms.