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We watched the sunset together, and it was nice to stand in silence with her next to me, our hips just touching. It was a perfect break from the hustle and bustle of the event inside. Before long, two women walked out, laughing and giggling, clearly already a bit tipsy.
“Come on, let’s head back in. Our main course must be getting cold.” I held my hand out to her.
The moment of hesitation was so short that I could have missed it if I hadn’t been paying attention. She took my hand, and we headed back to our table together.
We got back just as the emcee was reminding everyone to take one last look at the items up for bid in the silent auction. We sat down and enjoyed the rest of our dinner. Unlike some galas where the food looks more like art, leaving you so hungry you end up grabbing takeout on the way home, Darlington’s annual Monsters & Magic Charity Gala served generous portions. It was a must, considering some of the guests had voracious appetites.
It was rumored the menu had to be approved by Desmon, the dragon of Darlington and the owner of the museum, which was why everyone ate well. There was also a vegetarian option, but a cursory glance around the table showed that everyone had gone for the Wagyu.
The rest of the meal went by quickly, and by the time dessert was arriving, several couples were already on the dance floor. It was advertised as a ball, after all.
Iris leaned back in her chair contentedly. “That was so good. I might not have room for dessert, though.” She eyed the dance floor, then sent me a mischievous grin. “Want to help me work off some of this dinner with a dance?”
Hell, yes!
But then one look at the dance floor had me hesitating. I could grind with the best of them; I was a satyr, after all. But my dance moves had no names as such. It was just me moving my body; it was primal, instinctive. Almost like howling at the moon was for some.
The dancing here was different. Formal, with codified moves. I’d learned the basics when I first started getting invited to events like these, but those lessons were a while ago, and I didn’t remember much. I’d never had the chance to use what I’d learned, mainly because I hadn’t found anyone I wanted to dance with until now.
Seeing my hesitation, she raised an incredulous brow. “You can’t tell me you don’t dance. I thought satyrs were supposed to love dancing. Or is that just a myth?”
“No myth. I love to dance. Pretty damn good at it, too.” I eyed the dance floor doubtfully. “Just not like that. I took a lesson once but don’t remember much of it.” I sent her my best playful smile. “Now, if it was another type of dance floor, I’d already have you bumping and grinding.”
She laughed, the sweet, bubbly sound igniting every nerve in my body. Now that she’d mentioned dancing, I imagined our bodies moving together.
“I had to learn for this event. I only know the basics. I’m sure it’ll come back to you. And if it doesn’t, we’ll just wing it.” She urged me to stand, her hand on my bicep. “Come on. I didn’t practice for nothing. Of course, if you really don’t want to, maybe George would like to dance with me instead?” She turned to the quiet man and quirked up her eyebrows.
I knew she was joking, but George instantly got a look of sheer panic on his face.
I laughed and stood.“I’d love to dance with you,” I said.
I wasn’t just taking pity on the poor guy.
I didn’t want Iris dancing with anyone except me.
Chapter 3
Ivy
I really did want to dance with Shane, but also, it was time to mix and mingle again now that the meal was over. As long as I was dancing, I didn’t need to make small talk. Win-win!
I felt super comfortable with Shane, I couldn’t pinpoint why. It wasn’t our moment out on the balcony; I’d noticed it before that. Spending time with him just felt right. I was very glad I’d ended up seated next to him.
I had no problem pretending to be Iris for short bursts; yes, I was more introverted than she was, but it didn’t mean I was shy or had zero social skills. Not at all. It was just that I needed to be alone to recharge. Socializing usually cost me energy pennies. But being around Shane, I felt like I was replenishing them.
It took only a few seconds for Shane to remember the simple dance steps. He took over the lead instinctively.
At first, I’d wondered if his goat legs would affect things. It looked like he had backward knees, but then I considered that technically, those were his ankles. Nothing was backward, just…different proportions. As it turned out, it didn’t matter at all; we moved across the dance floor together with ease. Despite doing just beginner moves, his natural grace made us look a lot more proficient than we were. All I had to do was follow his lead.
His soft brown eyes held me a willing prisoner as we danced; I felt like I could get lost in them forever. By the time the first song ended, I was smiling so hard my cheeks almost hurt. I wasn’t at all ready to go back to my seat, so we continued dancing through the next song, even though my feet were starting to complain.
Whatever spell had been placed on these shoes, it had worked wonders up until now. I’d felt like I was wearing sneakers instead of a pair of ridiculously high heels. It had felt good even when we’d hit the dance floor. But now my feet were starting to tire, and my ankles had to do more and more of the work to keep me from falling.
“I think the spell on my shoes is wearing off.”
Shane looked down at my feet. “Damn, those are some shoes.”
“Right? I think the spell was doing the heavy lifting before, but now—”
