Page 27 of The Auction Block
I chuckle as I sip my water. “Oh, the one where you had to carry Jameson to the car because he thought he could keep up with Jack Daniels shots? Yeah, I remember.”
“Hey, now, it’s not my fault you two are closet alcoholics.” Jameson sits his beer on the table as all three of us laugh.
"Alright, ladies and gents," the DJ says over the microphone catching our attention. "If you know Soft-shoe, get ya asses up because Carrie Underwood's about to bring it down withSongs Like This."
My eyes meet Rhett's. He nods toward the dance floor, a grin playing at his lips. I give him my sly grin. This isn't going to be easy, but for once, Iwantto feel normal. I want to be twenty-seven and carefree, even if it's only for a moment— and even if I’m the only person who actually knows I’m still in my twenties. He stands and walks around, stopping in front of me and holds out his hand. I glance from it to his face.
Fuck . . .
My hand shakes violently, as I reach out and place it in his. He ignores my reaction and pulls me to my feet, letting go of my hand as we walk toward the dance floor. He and I line up with the other dancers on the outside, and my heart is pounding in my ears.
"Lily!" Blake takes a step forward. "What are you doing?"
I grin at him. "Dancin', Mr. Mason."
The music starts, and Rhett smiles. We both join the group in clapping to the beginning of the song and as the dance starts, my feet move, gliding with precision and grace over the floor. I lose myself in the music, forgetting about everyone around me, ignoring the hoots and hollers coming from Caleb and Jameson, and the tapping of many feet against the floor.
When the song ends, I strut back to the table and chug my water. Rhett's grinning from ear to ear, taking a long draw from his bottle.
"Nice job, Lily," he says.
"Thanks." I turn toward the dance the floor and almost slam into Blake's chest. Looking up, tremors run through my body from his closeness.
"Alright, couples! It's time for Sweets and Wilds. Gents, grab your ladies and get ya asses on the floor," the DJ booms through the mic.
"Dance with me," Blake whispers, his eyes blazing.
I shake my head slightly. "I can't, Mr. Mason."
"Please?"
Something inside me pulls and I want, so bad, to say yes. His touch will send me in convulsions, no doubt, but for some unknown reason— I want it.
I follow him out to the dance floor, tremors running from my shoulders to my knees. Blake stands next to me, gently setting his right arm across my shoulders as I lift my right hand, placing it in his. He reaches over and takes my left hand as well, squeezing gently.
The music begins and I take a deep breath, the shakes making it almost impossible to stay standing. Dresden stares at me from the edge of the dance floor, his face full of pain and concern.
"Talk to me," Blake whispers in my ear.
"I'm okay, just ignore it."
"This is what happens when people touch you?"
"Yes."
The music picks up and we move to the beat. My body never calms down, but his touch elicits far more than fear. It's the strangest mix I've ever experienced. With each turn around the floor, he pulls me tighter against his body, squeezing my hands.
I look up into his face and my heart stutters. His gaze is intense, and I'm not sure if it's the way he makes me feel, or the fact this is the first normal thing I've ever done in a long time, but I find myself smiling even as the shakes radiate like miniature earthquakes through my limbs.
As the song ends, he gently lets go of my hands and takes a small step back, giving me space. My nerves calm, slowly returning to normal as we meander back to the table.
Sitting down in my chair and reaching for my water, Jameson leans toward me. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.”
I glance at him with my bottle almost to my lips, my eyes wide. “Thanks, Mamba.”
He nods and gives me a small smile. “What are friends for, right?”
“Right,” I whisper as he sits up straight and I finally take a sip of my drink. Even though I don’t like showing my emotions, Jameson knows what he and the others mean to me.