Page 15 of Not Strictly Ballroom

He closes his eyes briefly and releases a heavy breath, like he’s fighting an internal battle. He moves closer, and I lock my eyes on his, seeing a hunger that makes my knees go weak. I’m grateful for the support of the door behind me.

“Are you sure?” he whispers. My stomach flips, seeing that he’s still Nick, still so courteous.

“Please,” I breathe back, and I see a tiny curl of his lips as they meet mine.

It’s soft, gentle, and over too soon. He pulls away slightly and looks at me, licking his lips as if he’s tasting me there. Then he breaks out into his usual grin and kisses me again.

This time, it’s needy and possessive and steals my breath. I kiss back with a hunger born from years of longing erupting through the cracks created by my sister's words. It’s not enough. I grasp his hips and pull him so he’s pushing me up against the door. I feel his tongue questing, and I open up, wanting him to devour me. Wanting nothing more in this moment than to feel like this forever.

Slowly, breathless, with heaving chests, we break apart. Nick rests his forehead against mine and gives a low chuckle.

“I don’t know if this is the stupidest or most incredible moment of my life.”

“We’ll make it incredible,” I whisper, and seal the promise by fusing my mouth to his again.

I can barely concentrate through dinner. Darcy invites me to stay and I don’t feel like letting him out of my sight just yet. I can’t quite believe, after what I’ve put myself through recently, that he wants me, too. So, just in case it’s all a terrible dream, and I wake up tomorrow feeling like I do now but with an oblivious best friend—and if that happens, I don’t think I could ever face him again—I’m sticking by his side for as long as I can to make the most of it.

If his parents notice our flushed faces and kiss-bruised lips, they don’t say anything. More noticeable is the difference in Darcy; he’s lost the faded look he’s been wearing since Julia gave her news. He looks like his colours have come brighter in the wash. Maybe it’s just me who’s seeing him that way. His mum probably wouldn’t notice anything, but I see his dad give him a couple of curious glances. Not in a bad way, or frowning. If anything, he looks pensive, hopeful almost. At one point, Darcy knocks his knee into mine and I look at him. He gives me a small, secret smile, and my heart flips over in my chest. I glance back at his parents and his dad is watching us. I give him my widest smile.

“This is great bolognese, Mr Franklin. You’ll have to teach me the recipe one day.”

“Thank you, and I can show it to you anytime,” he says with a smile that reaches his eyes, and follows it with a few quick nods. “I’d like that.”

I feel like I’ve passed some sort of test, even though this should be like any of the many previous occasions I’ve had dinner with Darcy and his parents.

There is tarte au citron for dessert, and just knowing this would have been incentive enough for me to stay for dinner. I won’t tell Darcy . . . though maybe I will, as he’ll think it funny and he would totally understand. Something settles deep in my core that I have someone who knows me on that level. That I didn’t lose him like I feared, but I got more than I’d ever hoped. I want to do a whole lot more with him—deliciously sinful things. Now that Darcy’s reciprocation has freed me from trying to keep a lid on my desires, ideas crowd my head. I take a deep breath. I need to stop these thoughts quickly. They’re wholly inappropriate for the dinner table, and I’m getting hard and uncomfortable in my jeans. A subtle nudge from Darcy’s knee brings me back into focus after I must have been staring at my plate for too long. Keeping my head down as my cheeks heat, not wishing for anyone to ask what I’ve been thinking, I take a spoonful of the tarte and it tastes as good as it looks. I swear the man’s culinary skills are wasted on his family.

As soon as we’re finished, I help clear the table. I’m both desperate to get Darcy alone again, and also wanting to prolong the anticipation of it. As soon as we’re in his room, I kick off my shoes and throw myself headlong onto his bed. It’s a move I’ve made hundreds of times before and he chuckles at me. This time though, I lie on my side and invite him to join me. He lies on his back next to me, but he’s tentative about it and I draw back slightly, wondering if I’ve pushed it too far.

“What’s wrong?” I frown down at him, trying not to let worry cloud my thoughts.

“I—I don’t know what we do next,” he says, and a crease crosses his brow. I’ve never noticed before how adorable it is.

“Well, I’d really like to kiss you again. If that’s okay?” I say, and receive an enthusiastic nod and a smile. “We’ll figure it out, D. We have all the time in the world.”

“Okay,” he whispers, as he turns to face me and snakes his hand across my hip, which I take as encouragement to kiss him. This time he tastes of the sweet and sharp citrus of the tarte, and damn, if he’s going to start tasting of my favourite foods, I might believe there is a heaven and I’ve just landed there.

“Hmmmm.” Darcy lets out a sigh and snuggles closer against me, his head resting on my shoulder. I marvel at the freshness of the excitement rippling through me, whilst slipping into a warm familiarity like we’ve been doing this forever.

“So, will you dance with me at the Nationals?” Darcy asks, flicking a glance up at me.

I falter. He can’t possibly mean it.

“I told you, I’m not good enough.”

“And I said that was rubbish. Weren’t you listening?”

“I might have been a bit distracted.” I huff, not really wishing to revisit the revulsion I’ve had for myself for the last few days.

“I’m sorry.” I barely hear the words.

“Hey, none of that. You have nothing to be sorry for. I was hating myself for fancying you. Wanting to hit on my straight best friend. It’s not cool, man. I thought the only way to deal with it was to stay away from you. But the truth ate me up inside.”

“I thought I’d chased you off.” He flashes those eyes at me again, shining green under dark lashes, and it fairly takes my breath away. I’m a sucker for them and always will be. “I thought you’d picked up on my thoughts towards you. I have to admit, I wasn’t sure what the thoughts were at first, but I believed I’d somehow repelled you. You, who could have anyone.”

“Hey.” I crook my finger under his chin and lift it gently so he has to look at me. “I don’t want just anyone, D. I want you.”

I lean down and place a gentle kiss to his lips, just briefly, and feel him smile against me.

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