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“It’s my kinesthetic intelligence.”
She chuckles. “Well, thanks for teaching me. This is all new. I’ve never been to a club.”
“Doesn’t really seem like your kind of hangout. Mine either.”
“Then why’d you come?”
Because she would be here.
I’m unsure if I should say that, though, and shrug instead. “Thought I’d give it a try. But I’m more of a homebody.”
“Me, too.”
“But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves tonight.” I step closer. “You can put your hands on my shoulders again, if you want.”
She nods, silent as she loops her arms around my neck, and I slip my hands high on her waist, moving our lower bodies in tandem. I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to move with her in a different way. Both of us a lot sweatier, her gasping my name, clutching at me.
When she’s in researcher mode in the Stress Lab, she seems so out of reach, this brainy girl I can never quite match. But here on the dance floor, nothing but our bodies between us, things seem easier, like maybe she might go for a guy like me…
I take a chance and bend down to brush my lips against hers, testing the waters. Leaning back, though, I don’t get the response I want.
Her eyes are wide with shock, body no longer swaying to the music, frozen in place.
Shit. I read her wrong. It was just me feeling a connection.
“Sorry,” I fumble to say. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Her mouth opens and closes, but she doesn’t say anything.
I wince, removing my palms from her waist, and her hands slip off my shoulders, returning to her sides.
“I guess the atmosphere got to me,” I comment lamely, needing to fill the growing silence. “Valentine’s Day and all.”
She nods, dipping her chin down so I can’t see her face.
Fuck, this is awkward. “I hope I didn’t ruin things.”
“No, you didn’t.”
I can barely hear her over the music, but it’s something, at least.
She pulls her phone out of her pocket again, and I catch Joel’s name on the screen. What does he want?
“I should take this. He keeps calling.”
I nod, standing there like an idiot as she walks away to answer the call.
Returning to our table, I slam back the rest of my beer, wishing I could rewind the last few minutes. What the fuck was I thinking? She made it clear from the beginning she wasn’t interested in me.
What, I thought because she no longer flinches from me that she’d magically be attracted to me now? That she’d forget that she’s way too good for a schlub like me? I’m good at punching people. I don’t exactly fit in with her over there getting research papers published and applying for grad school. I barely passed high school.
I rake a hand through my hair, debating whether I should get another beer, and decide against it. Getting drunk won’t solve anything, especially not if I’m riding home with her later. Then I might do something really stupid like tell her how much I wanted her to kiss me back. To find a darkened corner we could be alone in. How amazing she is, how I wish I could deserve her. How I look forward to every time I see her, how I’ve been racking my brain thinking of more excuses for us to spend time together. How I love the way she gets tongue-tied sometimes, how she keeps me on my toes, how I didn’t realize how much of my life was just going through the motions until she showed up.
I rub at my breastbone, these feelings too much to take. Even if she doesn’t think of me in a romantic way, I hope to God she’ll still want to be around me. That I didn’t completely fuck everything up kissing her like that.
Glancing up, I find Tessa pushing through the crowd to me in a hurry, panic in her eyes.
My pity party is over in an instant as I meet her halfway, visually making sure she’s physically okay. “What is it?”
