Page 179 of The Dixon Rule

We have the Viennese waltz and the cha cha left, but now that I’ve gotten one dance out of the way, my nerves are fading.

“I’m sorry in advance if we don’t win or place,” I say gruffly.

“Honestly, I don’t care. I’m just so happy we did this.” Her gaze softens, her tone now lacking that usual Diana sass. “Thank you.”

“For what?” I say thickly.

She stands on the tips of her high heels and brushes a kiss over my lips. “For everything. Talking sense into me about Percy. Humoring me with this silly stuff.” She waves a hand around the backstage area. “I was wrong about you, Lindley. Turns out you’re actually a good guy.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

SHANE

History

I ENTER THE LOCKER ROOM TO THE SOUND OF DEAFENING CHEERS. NAZZY and Patrick hop up on the bench and wave their towels around in the air. Trager has rolled up his jersey and is slapping asses with it. You’d think they just won the Stanley Cup finals, instead of watched me dance around in very tight clothing.

My teammates are all cheering and shouting and telling me how fucking amazing I did. I feel bad that I had to leave Diana there for the winners’ announcements. All the afternoon events are being announced now, the evening winners revealed later tonight at the after-party. I don’t know if an after-party full of amateur ballroom dancers would be the greatest thing ever or the cringiest. Either way, I won’t find out because I’ve got a hockey game to play.

“Dude, that was shockingly good.” Our co-captain, Case Colson, claps his hand over my shoulder. “And shockingly hot.”

“Yeah. My dick twitched,” Trager confirms.

I snort.

“I’m not even joking,” he insists. “Like damn. You and Dixon were generating some serious heat.”

We totally were.

“Thanks for coming,” I tell them, throwing my backpack in the locker. I’m still in my dance costume. I didn’t bother changing into my street clothes at the hotel since I was only going to have to change again when I got to the rink. I unbutton my shirt and wrench the bow tie off.

“When do you find out who the winners are?” Will asks curiously, sliding his chest protector on.

“Diana is going to text me. Should be any minute now.”

I set my phone on the shelf inside the locker and start to get dressed. I’ve got all my gear on except for my skates when I hear the alert.

A moment later, I release a loud whoop that captures the room’s attention.

Beckett lifts a brow. “Well?”

“Fifth place, motherfuckers!”

The room erupts again.

Trager, who couldn’t even stand the sight of me last semester, hauls me off my feet in a hug. Then he pulls back and wrinkles his nose. “Wait, is fifth place good? That sounds kind of bad.”

“Nah, man, it’s sick. Diana didn’t think we’d even make top ten.”

Speaking of Diana, another text pops up. My eyes nearly bug out of their sockets when I read it.

DIXON:

The 5th place prize is TEN GRAND!

Je-sus. What kind of hardcore amateur dance competition is this? I saw on the website that the first-place pair wins fifty grand, and I remember seeing the top five were also in the money, but I assumed that meant like six hundred bucks. Who the hell is funding this shit? Is the mafia involved?

DIXON:

---