Ashley squeezes my hand again. “They won’t. I can’t wait for you to meet them.”
“I didn’t even know you had a little brother.” Cassidy’s sitting beneath my brother’s arm, pressed up against his side.
“I do. Kenny’s seven. He wasn’t exactly planned.” Ashley sips her drink and shifts her eyes to me. “Dee, want to dance?”
We’ve danced together a million times, but never as a couple. I push past the nervous feeling in my stomach.
We’re just two friends dancing. I can do this. Baby steps.
I unlace our fingers and move out of the booth and toward the crowded dance floor. I try not to think about how much I want to touch her, or kiss her, and I dance as we always have—only this time it feels like we’re in a zone all our own as our hips move in tandem and our bodies move with a different type of familiarity. The kind of familiar, seductive movements that occur only between two people who have experienced moments of intense passion.
Ashley holds my gaze as her hand brushes mine, and she steps in closer, stealing all the air from the room. She’s so sexy I swear it takes all my focus not to touch her. The music slows and she moves her shoulders and hips as she slithers her body down mine, our thighs skimming, like a scene straight out of Dirty Dancing. Her eyes are still locked on mine as she dances her way back up. Need rushes through me, and my body stills. I’m trying to move. Anything. My hips, my arms, my shoulders, but I’m a statue. My entire body’s aflame. I feel as if I’m in a spotlight again and scan the other people, all dancing without giving us a second glance, and I realize it’s the heat of her gaze that makes me feel like I’m the only one in the room.
I can’t stand it one more second. I can’t resist her. I don’t know how I find the courage to reach for her hand and drag her toward the ladies’ room. I need to touch her, to kiss her, to let her feel what’s going on inside me. I push into the tight bathroom and seal my lips over hers, kissing her like this second, this kiss, is all we have. It’s sloppy and wet and deep and hot and I never want it to end. I know she needs air, and I give her mine. She grabs my face and pries our lips apart, eyes wide as she searches my face.
“You held my hand.”
I can’t respond. I want her lips on mine again.
Ashley, Ashley, Ashley.
“Delilah, you held my hand on the way to the bathroom.”
I nod, or maybe I don’t. I can’t tell, because she’s repeating herself, so it makes me wonder if I moved at all.
She kisses me slowly and tenderly, and I melt against her. Then she touches my cheek with her hand and whispers, “Thank you.”
Chapter Ten
~Ashley~
WAKING UP WRAPPED around Delilah is so much better than I’d ever dreamed. All those nights we’d spent sleeping in the same room after parties had given me plenty of time to conjure up what it would be like to actually sleep with her body against mine. But nothing compares to this, or to falling asleep with her in my arms, knowing she’s mine. I was overwhelmed when she took my hand last night in the bar. I know it was a huge step for her, even though we could have easily looked like two friends simply going to the ladies’ room together. It’s a common enough occurrence that it wouldn’t raise any eyebrows, but Delilah has been so sensitive to how others see us that for her it was a major deal. And I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t for me, too.
We spent the night at her place as we’d planned, and this morning, as much as I wanted to join her in the shower, I didn’t. I’m so grateful she’s taking these steps, no matter how big or small. I didn’t want to add any pressure. I think we were both testing boundaries last night. She looked sexier than hell—not that she doesn’t always, but last night? In that dress? I think she was testing her own boundaries, while I was testing ours as a couple.
I’ve decided to let her lead. No more pushing her limits. I know she’s trying to figure out how to live a lifestyle she’s had to pretend she didn’t want, and I want to be there for her and help her through the hard times and the good times. I have faith in Delilah, and when we kiss—Lordy, Lordy, when we kiss—I can feel that she’s falling for me just like I’m falling for her.
I watch her walking through the kitchen from my seat on the deck, where I’m having coffee with Tristan. My stomach gets all fluttery. My stomach never gets fluttery. At least it never used to. Delilah’s watching me, too, and she’s smiling as she comes through the door. She touches my shoulder as she sits beside me. Even that small gesture, touching me in a way that speaks volumes about how she feels about me, is a big deal. I reach up and cover her hand with mine.