had an overly inflated ego, and a pathological inability to read a room.
He also broadcast everything he was thinking and feeling on his face in high def. I hoped that he had a better poker face when he was defending his clients because otherwise even the weakest and most inexperienced prosecutor would mop the floor with him.
“Sure,” he finally agreed, albeit less than enthusiastically.
We stood and he followed me onto the dance floor. It took less than an eight-count of “Tennessee Whiskey” to figure out that Matthew had even less rhythm than he had decency, and that was a low bar.
He’d already stepped on my foot twice when he got a phone call that he “had to take” and rushed outside. In any other circumstances, I would’ve been bummed to be left on the dance floor partner-less, but all I felt was relieved.
I’d been milking this train wreck of a disaster date for all it was worth, but I knew it was time to throw in the towel. I couldn’t help but feel the sting of embarrassment that I’d subjected myself to an hour and a half of douchebag just because I was enjoying Holden’s silent attention. It was pathetic, and I was going to download all the self-help, self-esteem books I could find when I got home. What a waste of ninety minutes that I would never get back.
My shoulders were slumped in shame and defeat when I started to make my way back to my table through the other people on the dancefloor. I only made it two steps before a hand wrap around my wrist. The hold was gentle yet firm and my body lit up like a Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. I knew, even before I lifted my eyes, who had grabbed me because of my Holden sixth sense.
When I did look up, my suspicion was confirmed.
Holden Reed was standing beside me. “Do you want to dance?”
Was this the knight-in-shining-armor moment I’d been waiting for all these years?
Had witnessing my date with Matthew caused him to see me in a different light?
Was seeing me with another man all it took to expose hidden desires for me?
I didn’t have those answers, but I did have an answer. “Yes, I’d love to dance.”
As soon as I turned to face him, he lifted up his right hand and placed his left on my lower back and my heart skipped a hundred beats. A small smile tugged at my lips as I placed my hand in his and he began leading me around the crowded dance floor. Left foot change, right foot change, left foot change, right foot change.
While all the other couples were swaying back and forth, Holden and I were waltzing.
“I can’t believe you remembered,” I managed to say even though emotion was clogging my throat.
“Remembered what?” he asked with a totally blank expression on his face.
My heart sank for two reasons. First, he hadn’t remembered a very special night we’d shared. And second, that meant another woman had taught him the dance. For some inexplicable reason, that made me more jealous than thinking of him being intimate with another woman.
“Nothing.” I forced myself to smile as I blinked back the moisture that was starting to build beneath my eyes.
His lips parted and pulled up in a wide smile, the same smile that I’d commented on after yoga class. “Do you mean the night before your first competition? The Dallas Classic? You’d been out in the studio that was connected to your garage all night and I went to grab my bike and found you in tears. I asked you why you were upset, and you said that you were sure that you were going to mess up and embarrass yourself. I told you that whenever I got nervous, I remembered to go back to basics and use—”
“The kiss rule,” we both said at the same time.
Even at eight years old during what I later learned was my first panic attack, I’d hoped that the rule he was talking about meant he was going to kiss me. Not much had changed in twenty years. I really wished he’d kiss me now. I licked my lips.
His eyes flickered down to my mouth but then they shot right back up to my eyes. Instead of lowering his head and pressing his lips to mine, he repeated the same thing he had all those years ago, “Keep it simple stupid.”
I couldn’t help but feel the same disappointment. This time, it