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He opened his hands, waving them for me to come to him, and I thought he was. He frowned. “Come to me.”

“Why?”

“Just come.” He sighed, but still kept his hands out. “This is some awkward shit I’m about to tell you about, and I need the distraction.” His head lowered. “Dance with me and distract me. Please?”

Dance with him.

I suppose it was the please that did it.

And maybe the big brown puppy dog eyes.

He’d even placed his lip out, making me laugh, so of course, I came. I stopped just before. “No funny business.”

He appeared offended. “Funny business? Me? I’d never.”

My eyes lifted, but I did give him my hands. His form was fine, so he’d obviously done this before. He spun me out, and when I came back, we slowed into something a bit closer. I quickly realized it was because he didn’t want me to look at him.

How had he gotten so shy?

How had we gotten like this? Together again?

I fingered his lapel, my head rested on his chest, and I closed my eyes. The beauty of this was he couldn’t see my eyes either.

He had me vulnerable, too, in this moment, enjoying him, this with his arm around me. He folded our fingers together, and his jaw touched my hair.

“I told her,” he whispered. “I put everything out there.”

The sway threatened to stop, but I refused to allow it. I swallowed. “You told her your feelings?”

He told her he was in love with her?

Because that was what I really meant. He had been in love with her.

Was he still?

Why did it matter?

I stayed in heated silence, my entire body buzzing but only with nerves. I wasn’t sure I could handle what he’d tell me next.

Because if he said he was in love with her…

It did matter. It mattered to me, and though I wasn’t woman enough to say it out loud, I did think it. I cared if he was still in love with his first love.

Even if I didn’t want to.

He spun me again, but this time, he didn’t hide his eyes. This time, he made me face him, a beautiful god in a man’s body. A young man straddling the same line, but I was the only one who felt sophomoric in this moment, young.

Ramses’s hand formed around mine. “I did tell her my feelings. I told her a lot of things.”

“Like?”

He angled me around again, and when I returned, he pressed his lips close to my ear. “My feelings for you.”

My head jerked up, eyes narrow. “What?”

He… what?

“My feelings for you,” he emphasized, as if it didn’t mean anything.

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