You're to Blame(47)

“Proving a point.” He cups Duke’s cheek, patting it twice. “She’s been eyeing the dance floor all night.”

Derks heads back to the bar, leaving Duke and me alone. Well, besides the room full of people, but somehow, we seem to be in our own world. This is a feeling I’m not sure of, but an awareness I’m growing used to.

“Do you want to dance?” Duke fidgets, glancing over his shoulder to the dance floor before placing his hand over mine.

“You and me?” I stupidly ask. Of course, he means him and me.

Fuck. Do I want to dance? Maybe. I shouldn’t. But dammit, the way his hand holds onto mine, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go, makes me ready to do whatever he asks.

“I’m not asking you to donate a kidney, Char.” He smirks. “It’s a dance. Don’t think too hard.”

“Only my friends call me Char,” I joke to drain the strange vibe between us.

Duke licks his bottom lip. I’m instantly curious what it tastes like.

His eyes darken. “We are friends.”

“We are?” I take a deep breath to steady my nerves.

“What else would we be?”

“And friends dance, so it’s okay if we...”

“Dance,” he finishes my thought.

In this exact moment, I yearn to have his body against mine. There is no protest when the song changes, and he takes my hand in his. The rhythm is steady but slow. Our bodies know instinctively what to do with the other’s. The beat and lyrics together, a perfect mix of seduction and action, force us into autopilot. We don’t second guess. We move, gracefully, with each other.

Duke’s warm hands skim low onto my hips, and we sway. At the first movement, my heart punches in my chest. My body steps into his, begging to be closer. I close my eyes and wrap my arms loosely around his neck. His breath feathers through my hair and hits my skin. This is what Derks meant. The fire, it builds between us, and like most fires, it’s impossible to stifle.

A small peek is all I need. I’m desperate to see his face. Is he enjoying this? Or is this some obligatory pity dance?

His eyes are shut, but when I finally build up enough nerve, they open. “Ask me.”

“Ask you, what?” I grind my hips into Duke’s, and he moans.

“I didn’t ask you to dance because of Derks. I asked you because the first time you stepped foot in here, you eyed the dance floor with envy.” He recalls the night we ‘officially’ met. His hand on my hip pulls me in closer, and he follows my lead. “You got really drunk on tequila, and all inhibition went out the window. You were gorgeous, so damn carefree.”

“As opposed to any other day when I’m hideous?” I lean back to look in his eyes. They’re truthful even when he does his best to lie.

“You’re far from hideous. On your worst day, you put all these girls to shame, Charlotte.” He takes a deep breath, collecting himself. “You danced your ass off. Not a damn care in the world. Sort of like right now.”

I glance down between us and realize there is zero space between our bodies, and they’re moving like they were born to be connected. My sober mind tells me to put distance between him and me. Nothing good can come of these emotions he brings out. The problem is I want to experience these things. I’m like a prisoner stuck in jail for a lifetime. There’s a desperate urge to feel everything, to experience what life has to offer.

“He doesn’t dance with me,” I whisper and step away as the song comes to an end. Almost simultaneously, his touch is missed.

“That’s a shame.” Duke wraps his hand gently around my wrist. I step back into him and breathe in his scent. My head rests on his chest. The softness of the next song is perfect for the moment. Others find their way to the dance floor, cocooning Duke and me in a small section of the dance floor. Hidden from the outside world, we’re safe from judgement.

“I’m used to it.” For the first time, I hear weakness behind my words.

“You deserve to be danced with.” He stares down at our bodies, and I follow. We’re linked in a way I hadn’t realized I was in desperate need of. “You deserve honesty.”

“What else do I deserve?” My words are desperate, and not an ounce of me is ashamed. I want to know what Duke sees when he looks at me, who he thinks I am, and pray that he’s right.

“A girl like you, Charlotte” —he sighs, resting his forehead against mine— “deserves to feel like the only girl in the room. You are deserving of a lifetime of goodnight kisses and laughter. You deserve to be turned inside out from a single touch.” His ring skims down my arm, and I practically come undone in front of him.

I glance up, and like magnets, we connect. His head dips low until his lips are on my earlobe. He sucks the small patch of skin into his mouth. When he releases it, the pop rings through my head.

“Holy shit.” Is it hot in here?

“Just in case I never have another chance to find out what you taste like.” He steps back and disappears into the crowd, leaving me in the middle of the dance floor. A sinking feeling settles in my stomach, and I step forward to race after him, but know nothing good will come of it.

I press through the crowd and lean against the bar. Duke is nowhere in sight, but dammit, I’m looking for him. Derks smiles and shoves off his spot to stand in front of me.