Page 182 of Scattered Glitter

A flicker of something passes through his eyes before it melts into a slow, indulgent smile. His arm snakes around my waist, and he pulls me flush against him. “Not bad,” he murmurs, his gaze dipping to meet mine. “You know, I was a little jealous Saturday,” he admits, changing topics abruptly. “When I saw you dancing with Nicholas like this.”

I blink up at him, caught off guard by the admission. “You were?”

“Yeah.” He grins, his hand pressing against the small of my back, keeping me close. “I like to dance.”

The way he says it makes me scowl in mock annoyance. “Liar, you didn’t dance at all at the club.”

“Wasn’t really in the mood after what went down.”

Is he talking about me getting hurt?

“Is that so?”

“And it wasn’t my kind of music.” He lets go of me, then walks back toward the Bronco. A moment later, music starts, a country song filtering through the quiet.

“So, what do you say?” Koen steps toward me and extends his hand, his brown eyes warm and inviting under the soft glow of the headlights. “Will you dance with me?”

The rush of emotions that bombard me at the question are a tangled mess, too many and too intense, but the thought of pushing him away is a weight I can’t lift rightnow. Falling into him, letting myself lean into this moment feels so much easier.

Maybe even inevitable.

When I realize the song he chose is a slow song, one about slow dancing in a parking lot, I take the final step and slide my hand into his. He wastes no time as he pulls me close, his arm wrapping around my waist as we were before, and we begin to sway.

This isn’t the dancing I did with Nicholas, all practiced moves and flirtation, or with Sylus, untamed and electric. Dancing with Koen is gentle, close, like an embrace. Our steps are small and slow.

As the chorus starts, he pulls me even tighter, his beard brushing against my temple as he kisses the side of my head. “I’m proud of you, my Little Thief,” he murmurs. “For doing your job so well. For pushing yourself, even when it’s hard. For staying and trying with us.”

The praise wraps around me, and I melt into his embrace, truly letting myself fall into the comfort and protection it provides. His vanilla scent fills my nose, and I can’t help but wonder how he knows exactly what I need to hear. It’s like he saw the part of me that’s been drowning and found the perfect words to help me breathe again.

I close my eyes and rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. For a long time, there’s nothing but the music, his scent, and his arms wrapped around me. I simply let myself be here, held and safe, allowing everything else to fade into the background. Eventually, my movements noticeably grow slower, soothed by the extended comfort. Koen chuckles, glancing down at me tenderly.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” I mumble something incoherent in response, barely able to keep my eyes open.His huff of laughter bristles my hair as he brushes it back over my shoulder. “You’re precious, you know that?”

A thrill runs through me, waking me up a little. He tilts up my chin, catching my gaze, and I blink up at him, feeling half-dazed, maybe from the hypnosis or our extended closeness. “We still need to see if the hypnosis worked at least a bit before I can take you to bed.” A teasing glint in his eyes makes my pulse pick up, and sudden warmth unfurls between my legs.

Fuck.

“Okay,” I say, clearing my throat, trying to sound awake and unaffected. “How about we drive over to the food market? I could grab some Twinkies or something. I haven’t really eaten today.” He frowns at that, but I continue rambling before he can say anything. “I’ll share, don’t worry. And hey, the fact that I’m even thinking about food right now? Good sign your hypnosis worked.”

“I’m a good cook.”

“I can do a one-eighty on a skateboard.”

“What?” His brow furrows as he stares at me in confusion.

“Oh, sorry,” I explain. “I thought we were stating random facts.”

He makes an amused sound deep in his throat but then smiles. “How about this, instead? We grab some ingredients, and I’ll cook you something back at your place. Call it a reward for being so brave tonight.”

I lift an eyebrow, pretending to consider it. “What do you cook?”

“What do you like?”

“Pasta.”God yes.“With lots of cheese.”

He nods seriously, like he has accepted a challenge. “Done.” He kisses my temple, then takes my hand, leadingme back to the Bronco. His hand in mine feels as steady as his heartbeat, giving me that same feeling of comfort.

As he opens the door for me and helps me in, it takes a moment to register what I’m feeling, or rather,notfeeling. There’s no panic, only a gentle flutter in my chest. In utter shock, I realize the nerves are there, but they’re muted.

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