Page 15 of Nerdy Dirty Valentine

James began to sing a little. His rich voice was smooth and made me shiver, even if he wasn’t always in tune. I liked the timbre of it.

I joined him in the chorus. So did Ginsberg. He howled as we sang, his doggie whining matching the pitch.

“We’re that bad,” I laughed.

“Or that good,” James corrected, chuckling. “He’s jealous.”

James sang a little again, and I swung him around in fun, singing with him.

Ginsberg mimicked our voices in his howl.

“He’s no singer.”

“Ginsberg’s singing is fire,” I defended him. “He’s got quite the doggie range.”

“I stand corrected. He’s a howling king.” James bowed to Ginsberg. “Let me take him to the kitchen and give him a bone to keep him out of our way. Why don’t you find another song? This one is forever Ginsberg’s ‘Despacito.’”

While he settled the dog, I scrolled through for another one. James returned, his blue eyes still shining with humor, his golden hair pushed off his face.

“You okay?”

I cleared my throat. “Uh-huh.”

I put on another song.

It wasn’t long until James was moving better. Not great or anything, but his arms weren’t so robotic.

“That’s it! Good. Now, rock it,” I ordered, moving faster. “Step in—that’s right. Now, add some hip.”

“My hips don’t move that way.” James groaned, stumbling.

“Okay, Shakira, the hips don’t lie. Just give in to the music.” I came up behind James to help and placed a hand on his hip. My hand was so big it spanned his whole waist. I hulked over him but tried to be gentle.

“Like this.” I guided him a little.

It was the first time I’d held him close. I could feel the heat coming off his body. My frame towered over him. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and James caught his breath. His lips parted, and I released him quickly.

I swallowed, my throat constricted. I eased away, trying to ignore how rattled I felt. James couldn’t know.

“Water,” I grunted. “Be right back.” I didn’t dare meet his eyes as I hurried away to the kitchen to get us two waters.

I gulped my water, draining the glass. My skin was hot as if I were on the job. Christ. I hadn’t expected any of this. Hadn’t expected to be so turned on.

I brought James out his water and avoided our hands touching.

“Follow my moves.”

For the rest of the song, I danced away, swaying my hips, tapping a leg when I changed feet for him to get it—leaving space between us.

He tried so hard. James chewed the corner of his lip as he concentrated, his glasses getting slightly foggy, feet tangled a little, but he never gave up. He kept going, watching me, dancing with all his might.

If James was at a club watching me like that, he’d get my attention. His blue eyes shined with determination. I’d shake my ass for him. Let him look his fill. Maybe we’d head to the back rooms and…

Suddenly, James smiled.

I missed a step.

Instinctively, I struggled to regain my balance. Catching myself, I breathed out heavily. What was wrong with me? I had to stop this type of thinking. If I didn’t stop it, I’d drag James off to the bedroom.

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