Page 106 of Shifted Desire

“That’s good,” I reply weakly, wishing I’d come up with any other less embarrassing excuse.

“You can end your watch,” Nathan says. “I’ll keep an eye out from here on out. I am your date, after all.” Another maddening squeeze of my leg, his hand slipping higher.

Wes chuckles. “Alright. But know if the day comes when you need my services again, I’m here,” he says with a wink. Ariana laughs, and he leans down to kiss her, softly but with clear adoration.

Jealousy hits me hard as I watch them. I sip my champagne to hide my reaction, but I can feel Nathan beside me thinking the same thing.

Everyone around us is allowed to touch and kiss, and we have to sit here pretending like we’re only friends. This is going to be a long night.

39

Watching Samantha wilt as dinner progresses, her gaze flicking between the blissful bride and groom, the loved-up women from The Vault beside her, the touchy-feely couple across from us, and even her parents, breaks my heart. Her yearning and jealousy are palpable.

It’s not much easier for me, my wolf supremely unhappy that she’s unclaimed and I’m not allowed to show her affection. By the time the cake is cut, it takes everything in me not to stand up and proclaim our secret to the table so I can kiss her and dote on her like she deserves.

The only thing holding me back is the memory of how worried she was about ruining Max’s wedding. How vulnerable she looked when she talked about how she’s always the one causing issues.

I wish Samantha could see the love her family has for her the way I do. Max adores her, and he wouldn’t have made her his Best Woman if he thought she was a problem. Shane thinks she’s brilliant, and Elle’s yearning to be close to her is obvious to anyone who spends time around them both. Her sisters aren’t as obvious in their affection, and if given the opportunity, I’m going to have a word with them about how they ganged up on her about needing a date, but I know they wouldn’t change anything about Samantha even with her past indiscretions.

Even if they end up hating me and don’t understand her getting into a relationship with me, I know with absolute certainty that they’ll never stop loving her or shut her out. Otherwise, I’d never ask her to tell them about us.

Samantha swirls the dregs of her second glass of champagne, staring at it morosely as Wesley whispers something to his blushing girlfriend and they go off to the dance floor. Grace drags Blair out of her chair, giggling as her girlfriend sighs and lets herself be led out to dance too.

Enough.

I might not be able to kiss her, but we can dance together. People dance together platonically all the time. And by now, everyone’s happily buzzed on champagne and too busy having fun and chatting to notice if I hold her a little closer than an older family friend should.

Samantha frowns at me as I push my chair back and stand. I extend a hand, and her frown deepens.

“Come on. Let’s dance.”

“What? No.”

“Everyone is doing it. It’s no big deal.”

“Yeah, sweetie, go have some fun! Don’t worry, Nathan’s a good dancer,” Shane says, shooing her away from the table.

“See? There’s no risk of me stepping on your toes.”

Samantha rolls her eyes, letting out a dramatic sigh as she places her hand in mine. My skin tingles where we make contact, yearning to feel more of her, but I keep my smile friendly.

She keeps her petulant facade up all the way to the dance floor, not letting it fall even when I move closer. Shane gives her a thumbs-up, and I can’t help laughing at how absurd this whole situation is.

When my friend turns away to say something to his wife, I tug Samantha to the other side of the crowd on the dance floor and as much out of her family’s line of sight as possible.

The upbeat pop song fades into a slow one, and I flash her a sharp smile. “Shall we?”

Her gaze flicks back toward our table, and she swallows hard. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” I reach out to take her hand and rest my other hand lightly on her back. Touching her in appropriate, respectful spots, though my body thrums with the need to hold her close.

She sways toward me, as if her body instinctively wants to close the space between us, and I wonder if maybe she’s right. How could anyone watching right now not see the heat thrumming between us?

But now that I’m touching her, I can’t find it in me to give a fuck.

“Let me have this,” I murmur. “Please.”

Her gaze is soft and full of longing as she nods and rests her hand on my shoulder, leaving a frustrating sliver of space between our bodies as she lets me guide her. The crowded banquet hall fades into background noise as we move together. Nothing in the universe matters but the woman in front of me. We may not be able to do more than dance together tonight, but I’m going to savor every damn second of it.