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He led her toward the railing. Peeking over, Casey cast her gaze over the edge to peer at the mass of couples swaying to the slow song.
“Looks like a dancing place to me,” he whispered, resting his hands on her waist and tugging her closer.
A butterfly burst free from its cocoon in her stomach at his warm touch, his closeness spurring her heart to pound beyond any recognizable pattern. Old Style clung to his breath, but his sweatshirt smelled of sandalwood, the mixture purely exhilarating.
Casey placed her hands on his shoulders, reminiscent of a junior high dance.Why do I have to be so awkward?
And as if she’d spoken the words aloud, a soft chuckle penetrated her ear as Austin lifted her hands to cup the back of his neck.
“It’s just a dance,” he whispered as his fingers tucked a curl behind her ear. He steered her body in slow circles, swaying in tune to the music with ease and rhythm.
Her feet left the floor as the song pulled her body from the earth. Confidence exuded from him as he twirled, and Casey breathed, her skin melting into his as she reveled in the unexpected source of comfort and safety his arms offered. His nose met her hair, and his warm breath tickled her neck. And as the music faded, she tripped, staggering over his shoe. “Oh! Shit, I’m sorry! Two left feet...” She grinned, embarrassment rising to color her cheeks pink once more.
He smiled and led her back to their table. “Thanks for the dance, Princess.”
Princess?
Casey sank into her seat as her gaze fell to the full pitcher and fresh plastic cups on the table. Peeking at Austin, she eyed him as he rammed his hat back in place and reached for the beer.
You were pretending I was Mavis, weren’t you?
––––––––
Casey stirred. Theaftereffects of cheap beer wracked her body as consciousness called. Swallowing, she built up the courage to open her eyes and experience the spinning room.
Why do I always drink too much?
The covers tugged to her left, and her eyes shot open.What the hell?Austin, shirtless and sleeping, rested directly beside her, his chest rising and falling with each peaceful inhale and exhale.
Oh, shit... What did we do?
Panic gripped her, unease squeezing her stomach like a sponge and wringing the memories of last night free. The Cubs game... Old Crow... dancing... and the beer.So much beer.Her mind whirled, blurred memories materializing before her as her gaze raked over his bare torso.
Cringing, she peeked under the covers.Please let me be wearing clothes! Please let me be wearing clothes!Beer-stained leggings, her jersey, and one royal-blue flat shoe still clothed her body as she lifted the blanket. Breathing out a sigh of sweet relief, Austin stirred and opened his eyes, confusion growing on his face as he awakened. His gaze settled on her before a wide grin stretched across his lips.
“Morning,” he muttered, lifting his arms up and above his head.
Casey snorted and sat up, running her fingers through her hair. “I umm... don’t remember how we got back here,” she admitted, battling with a scratchy throat. Rubbing her eyes, she blinked the sleep away.
Austin dragged his hands along his cheeks and snickered. “All I remember is the beer.”
“I definitely remember the beer.” Groaning, she dropped her face into her palms, disguising the embarrassment flushing her cheeks. The light tickle of his fingers grazed her back, and her body jolted, sending shivers prickling along her skin.
“Whoa, sorry!” He leaned behind her, his torso disappearing over the side of the bed. “I just need my shirt.” Austin pulled from the floor a wrinkled ball of cotton and tugged it over his head. Bringing his knees to his chest, he rested his back against the wall and sighed. “How do you feel?”
Casey rubbed beneath her eyes, clearing the remaining traces of melted eyeliner. She grinned. “Like death. You?”
“Same.” He closed his eyes and let his head drop back.
Her stomach lurched as the taste of Old Style returned to her mouth. Swallowing, she fought the urge to upend her stomach in his lap.Ugh, what the hell time is it?Casey twisted and reached for her purse on the nightstand. Grasping her phone, the screen flashed 9:30 AM.
“Oh, shit! It’s 9:30 already!” She swung her feet off the bed, and the sole surviving blue flat dropped from her toes to the floor.
Austin snickered. “Josh hates being late.”
“Which means Mavis is going to kill me!” The hinges on her bedroom door creaked as she tiptoed outside, the scent of fresh coffee impaling her nostrils in the hallway.
“About damn time, girlfriend!” Mavis tossed a bite of bagel in her mouth and chewed. “I was just about to wake you. We’ve gotta hit the road.”
