Page 18 of Wyatt

“You just save the lives of animals and shit.”

“Some shit like that, yeah.”

I sway to the music a little. Just enough so that she doesn’t realize when she starts swaying again too.

Dang, Ilikeher hands on me this way.

I wanna put my hands on her. But that’d be crossing into dangerous territory. Beck’ll be watching us whether or not I touch Sally, mostly because I’m about to show her a damn good time.

And a beautiful woman having a good time at a bar? No man in his right mind can resist that.

Sally’s doing a good job of keeping her eyes locked on mine. The extended eye contact is unnerving, but I…kinda like it. Feels like I’m edging myself. How much can I take before I pop a woody and come in my pants like a teenager?

Sally and I have danced together before, but it doesn’t happen often enough. She’s usually either working or up on the stage, performing with her mom.

For a split second, I allow myself to fantasize that this is real. That Sally is looking at me like this because she wants me, and I’m gonna make her smile and laugh and sweat while we take turn after turn around the dance floor. Then I’m gonna take her home. Lay her down. Give her what Beck Wallace can’t.

“You good if I give you a spin?” Because I’m a masochist, clearly.

Sally scrunches her brow. “Yes. You don’t need to ask.”

“A guy should always ask if it’s okay to touch you.”

“Okay, Dad.”

I grab the wrist of the hand she’s got on my chest. When I wrap my first finger and thumb around it, I’m struck by how delicate she is here. How small. The pads of my finger and thumb touch with room to spare.

I can feel the uneven beat of her pulse against the inside of my thumb knuckle.

“Daddyis fine.Dadis not.”

Sally lets out a bark of laughter. “I’m scared to ask if you’re serious.”

“I’m dead serious when I tell you not to call me Dad again. C’mon, Cinderella. Time to dance at the ball.”

Letting go of her wrist, I curl my hand around hers so that our tangled fingers are clasped against my chest. Her palm is warm. The kind of soft that makes my chest tight.

Her gaze wavers, falling to our hands before moving back up to my face.

“What?”

“Your calluses.” She runs her thumb over the top part of my palm. “They’re insane.”

“Too rough?”

Her brown eyes glitter. “Yeah. But I think I like it.”

“Do not elaborate.” I bite the inside of my cheek. I pull our hands over her head, forming a bridge with our arms. “C’mon, Sunshine. Give me what I want.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Dear God.“What did I tell you about?—”

“I thought Daddy was okay?” Her eyes dance.

She’s teasing me, and I fucking love it.

When am I gonna stop feeling like a lovesick asshole?

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