Twisted Perfection (Perfection #1)(25)

I stalked back down the hallway away from the temptation.

“Woods?” Della’s voice stopped me. I couldn’t go back there. I looked back at her over my shoulder.

“Hey. You did great up there. Sheryl Crow is hard to sing.”

She blushed. “Thank you. It was fun. I’d been nervous when Bethy had asked me to but I’m glad I did.”

“I’m glad you did too.”

She walked toward me. “How about that dance now?”

I wanted to dance with her. I wanted that memory. That experience. I held out my hand to her and she placed hers in mine. I stared down at her small hand and my chest felt like it was stretching. The tightness that surrounded me only grew stronger as I closed my hand around hers and led her out to the dance floor.

I could feel eyes on me but right now I didn’t give a shit. They could look. They could judge me. This was what I wanted and until I said “I do” I was going to spend time getting to know Della. If I didn’t, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.

Jimmy had taken the mic and had just started singing “Wanted” by Hunter Hayes. I was thankful for a slower song. That meant I’d get to pull her closer.

Della slid her hands up my arms and rested them there. She didn’t slip them behind my neck and press close to me.

“You smell good,” she said softly. I almost missed it she’d spoke so quietly.

“Not as good as you smell, trust me,” I replied and she tensed as my hands tightened their grip on her waist. “It’s the truth, Della. I’ve told you before that you smell incredible. Don’t get all uptight because I’m being honest.”

She relaxed a little. “Okay, you’re right. No harm in thinking your friends smell good.” The teasing tone in her voice was cute.

“Is there a rule that says since we’re friends you can’t wrap your hands around my neck?”

Della paused a moment then her hands slid up and over my shoulders. They rested on my shoulders. “I’m not tall enough for them to go any further. Even in these boots.”

“This is good,” I assured her and pulled her closer. “Where are you from Della Sloane?”

She laughed. “You could easily look on the application that you had me fill out to find that information.”

She was right. I could. “But I want to hear it from you. I don’t want to read it off your file.”

Della tilted her head to the side and studied me a moment. “Macon, Georgia”

I’d have guessed Alabama or Georgia. Her accent was thick. “Do you have brothers or sisters?”

A melancholy look came over her face and she shook her head no. “No.” That simple ‘no’ sounded like so much more. She wasn’t telling me something.

“You don’t seem like an only child. The carefree, travel the world choice of yours is more like something the baby of a family would do.”

Della smiled but it was one that held secrets. I wondered if I’d ever know those secrets.

“I’m not carefree. Not even close. But I want to be. I’m hoping one day I’ll know what that feels like. Right now I’m trying to find me. You know what you want out of life, I don’t. I have no idea.”

What I wanted out of life? Did I know? Was it even the same anymore? “I know a lot less than you think I do.”

She smirked. “Is that so?”

Kissing those sexy little lips was tempting. Oh so tempting. “When’s your birthday?” I asked instead of responding to her remark.

Della sighed and she looked away from me. “April sixth. When is yours?”

“December tenth. What’s your favorite color?”

She giggled. “Blue. Pale blue. What’s yours?”

“A month ago I would have said red but I’ve changed my mind. I like blue now too.”

“Why?” she cocked an eyebrow and gazed up at me.

I wasn’t about to tell her it was because her eyes were blue. She’d get all tense on me again. “A guy can change his mind. I’m allowed to like blue now.” I didn’t give her time to think about that. “Who was your first grade teacher?” I asked quickly to distract her. Della stopped dancing and she backed away from me. Her eyes appeared almost glassy. Had I said something wrong? Had she figured out why I had said blue was my favorite color?

“I need a drink,” she said with a wobbly nervous smile then darted off away from me.

How could I upset her by asking her about her first grade teacher? There was something deep in her eyes that told a story I feared I’d never know.

Della

It was a simple question. Sweet, really, that he’d even care. Had anyone ever cared about such trivial things concerning me before? I had never been asked such personal innocent questions. But he’d asked about my teacher and all I could see was my mother.

Sit here Della. Don’t look out the window. You have to do this work. To be smart you need to read Shakespeare. He will remind you how dangerous the world can be.

I shook my head to clear the memories. I couldn’t do this here. Not now.

It’s dark out there Della. Bad things are in the dark. Lock your windows and doors and stay tucked in tight. The monster under your bed will hear you if you get up.

No momma. Go away.