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Did those words leave mymouth?
This whiskey shit is messing with my insanity. I shouldn’t want to dance with Dallas. I definitely shouldn’t be feeling this weird pull between us after only a few hours of drinkingtogether.
Lauren stopped by our table earlier to give me a ride back to Stella’s, but I wasn’t ready to end my time with Dallas. Turned out, neither was he. He offered to walk me back to Hudson’s on his way home. Surprisingly, Lauren didn’t find it weird and tookoff.
The place is close to empty, except for the few lone rangers at the end of the bar, and the band left with their armful of groupies. The music has been downgraded to static-infused country songs coming from an old jukebox in the corner of theroom.
He stares at me with hooded eyes, and I wave my hand in the air as rejection slaps me in my stupid, drunkenface.
“Forget it,” I rush out, beating him to the punch. “Of course you don’t.” This will mortify me when my senses come back in themorning.
He holds his fist to his mouth and lets out a shuddering breath. “I’m not really up fordancing.”
He jumps up from his stool, and I avert my eyes to thetabletop.
This is where he bails.Do they have Uber aroundhere?
His tall frame towers over me, and I jump when his strong hand grabs my chin to tilt itup.
Our gaze meets, latching on to each other’s in a strong hold, and he lowers his voice. “But I will foryou.”
His fingertips smooth over my chin as he waits for my answer, and my brain goes fuzzy. Every person and every noise disappears aroundus.
“Never mind,” I stutter out, not sure if my words are even audible. “It’s okay. I’m a terrible danceranyway.”
His hand disappears, and he bends down, so his lips are at my ear. “Get up,Willow.”
I shudder at the feel of his breath against my skin, goose bumps popping up myneck.
“You’ve been answering my Tinder questions and listening to me be a miserable bastard all night. I owe you adance.”
“Are … are yousure?”
“Positive. Hell, I need it as much asyou.”
I take his hand and slide off my barstool. “Lead theway.”
His grip is tight. Secure. I keep my eyes downcast, so I don’t see the expressions on people’s faces when they see him dancing with someone who’s nother.
Judgmental eyes won’t ruin mynight.
My heart races when his hand leaves mine, and he swoops his arm around my back, looping it around my waist. His hand settles on the arch right above my ass, and he starts moving us to the beat of themusic.
“What song is this?” Iask.
“‘Hurt’ by JohnnyCash.”
He shuts his eyes, holding me closer, and I take in the lyrics. Dallas didn’t choose this song, but God, does it fit his life rightnow.
The jukebox is giving me a warning.Run! Run! You naive girl. This man will only end up hurtingyou.
A sharp pain fills his eyes as he stares down at me. “You have no idea what you brought out of me tonight.” He blows out a ragged breath. “What you gave me tonight, Willow. I’ve never opened up like this toanyone.”
Even Lucy?is the question I want to ask, but I bite my tongue.Me eitherare the words I want to say next, but again, I don’t, for fear he’ll runaway.
Almost a decade with Brett, and never did emotions drum through me likethis.
Is this what it feels like—falling for someone? Is this why people who’ve experienced love crave it somuch?
