Page 128 of The Dixon Rule

I suppose that’s why I love the way my dad sees me—as unstoppable, invincible. I know there’s only one opinion that should matter, and that’s my own. But to me, the person whose lens I want to view myself through is my father’s. Because his vision of me is the best one.

“You make him laugh a lot,” Shane’s dad says, his rough voice jolting me from my depressing thoughts.

I crack a smile. “I think I just annoy him a lot.”

“That too.”

“Thanks,” I say with mock hurt.

Ryan smiles. “But he needs that. My boy needs the challenge.” His gaze drifts across the room. “All Lindley men do.”

He’s gazing at Shane’s mom, who’s chatting with her twin and a few other women I wasn’t introduced to. An uneasy feeling pricks at me when I notice the longing in his eyes. The hint of sorrow. I’m sure of it now, and I find myself praying that Shane’s parents aren’t having issues. They seem like such a great couple.

Ryan spins me around again. “I also notice how much more relaxed he is. Around you, I mean.”

Compared to Lynsey? I want to ask.

I resist the urge. I already have the answer anyway, because I saw it for myself, how Shane acted when Lynsey was around. That night, he’d been more serious. Guarded, watching his words. I don’t know if that was to impress Lynsey or to avoid angering her, but I certainly noticed a difference. I find it validating that his parents also observed his change of behavior with his ex. Or at least I suspect they did.

“I like you two together,” Ryan says. “I think—”

“May I cut in?”

Shane, of course.

His dad relinquishes me without complaint, clapping his son on the shoulder before walking off. Shane takes his place, placing one arm around my waist to pull me close.

“Should we perform our tango for the guests?” I tease.

“I’d rather die.”

I press my face against his chest to smother a laugh. “And you say I’m the dramatic one.”

When I raise my head, he’s once again fixated on my cleavage. Warmth spreads through me, and not just because his eyes are telegraphing how badly he wants me naked. Dancing with Shane is pretty great. He’s so tall and I’m so short, so it really shouldn’t work, but somehow it does. We fit together.

“What was my dad saying to you?” he asks curiously.

“Oh, you know. That I’m wonderful and he loves seeing us together and I’m the best girlfriend you’ve ever had.”

“Yes. I’m sure he said all that. In those exact words.”

“Well, he did say he liked us together. That part is true.”

“You know who else would like us together?” Shane winks at me.

“Your penis.”

“Exactly.”

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Dear Ms. Dixon,

We are pleased to inform you that your entry for this year’s National Upper Amateur Ballroom Competition has been approved. You are entered in the following categories:

American Smooth Duo

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