Page 17 of The Way We Score

I’m not mad at her. Dylan might as well be my little sister for how close we were growing up, and we were both dancers, even if we were on different ends of the spectrum.

She was a classically trained ballerina on her way to theAmerican Ballet Company in New York—until an accident ended her career.

I was the precision dance line and drill team captain with my sights set on the biggest professional cheerleading team in America. Until I saw too much behind the scenes.

Still, we loved to dance, and Dylan is so nostalgic. Of course, she wanted us out here.

Now I’m listening to my heart thundering in my ears louder than the sultry song. I’m thinking about the bead of sweat sliding down the center of my back. I’m thinking about being in these arms I thought I’d gotten over years ago.

I’m not over them. They still make me feel safe, like I’m going to be okay.

Garrett’s been walking around this restaurant all night in those jeans that show off his fine ass with that apron barely covering his broad chest. The short sleeves of the tan Cooters & Shooters T-shirt he’s wearing stretch painfully over his biceps, and I steal a glance up at him only to get a shock from my chest to my toes when I meet his blue eyes.

His full lips curl in a careful smile, and he leans closer. “Is this okay?”

My chin lifts, and I’m nodding before I speak. “Dylan’s so sweet. She just misses the old days.”

Only something is different about my oversized partner. I can sense how much he’s changed in the years we’ve been apart. When we were in high school, Garrett was the loud, boisterous, baby brother of Jack and Zane. It’s a status that ended when Hendrix and then Dylan were born three years later, but he’d been the youngest long enough for it to be ingrained.

He was never afraid to speak his mind, and I fell in love with his big personality. I loved everything about him—his laugh, his brash fearlessness, his confidence, how he took what he wanted… Until it turned on me.

Until that night in Baton Rouge when it all fell apart.

A knot twists my throat and I lower my chin. The songchanges, and the strains of “Chasing After You” by Ryan Hurd begin. A noise of approval ripples across the room, and it doesn’t take long before we’re surrounded by lusty slow dancers.

They push and nudge, and with a gentle tug, Garrett pulls me closer, all the way to his chest. I don’t resist. My eyes close, and I don’t even question it. It’s so easy to let go and let him lead me.

Moving to the music against Garrett’s body is truly like riding a bike. Two measures, and I’m right back to where we used to be all those years ago. Every chance we could get we were together, touching, dancing, holding on like we’d never let go.

Our hips move in time, and we sway like an old love song our bodies remember. We’re keeping it clean, but we’re much closer than we were one song ago.

My cheek rests against his chest, and we let the music guide us. The scent of citrus and soap and memories wrap me in a spell, and I’m not the sad lady who came here with her tail between her legs to care for her injured mom. I’m that girl who used to have it all.

I’m the girl who knew exactly what she wanted and how she was going to get there. I’m that girl who loved so fiercely, she couldn’t imagine it ever slipping away.

“I love chasing after you…” Garrett has a great voice, and it’s a wash of warmth through my chest.

He always did that when we were in school. I’d jump on his back, and he’d walk on, carrying me and singing. I’d sing along, harmonizing if I could hear it. It makes me smile, when I think about how beautifully golden we were.

I could never forget something this good, this fundamental, this real.

The song ends, and I take a step back as if waking from a dream. My eyes rise, and when they meet his, he seems as affected as I am.

“Want to go for a walk? It’s nice outside.” His large hand still holds mine, and I nod.

“Sure.”

I don’t even notice as we pass through the bodies, heading for the screen door that leads to the small kids’ playground out back. It faces the bay, and there’s a little beach outside the fence leading all the way down.

He gives me a nudge, and I see he grabbed two Corona longnecks on the way out. Must’ve been when we passed the bar. The perks of owning the place, I think to myself.

“Thanks.” I smile, looking up at him as I take it.

“Figured you might be thirsty.”

He has no idea.

The water shushes quietly onto the shore, and my eyes lift to the sky. It’s black with a full yellow moon right in the center painting the waves with silvery tips. I’m sure the sky is full of stars, but there’s too much light pollution for us to see them here. If we were out in the pasture south of town, it would be a different story.

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