Page 69 of Can't Text This

I shrug. “What? Denny stole the CD when it came out.”

“Good to know petty theft runs in the family.”

“Robert!”

“Fine, fine.” He drops down off his stool and stands tall above me. “Let’s dance.”

I place my hand in his and he leads us out onto the floor.

A fast song, one I don’t recognize, blasts through the speakers. Robbie grabs hold of my hips and pulls me into him. “You sure about this?”

“Yes. Why? Should I be afraid?”

He chuckles at the panic in my voice. “No, but I will laugh if you’re terrible.”

“You’re so mean.”

“I have a feeling you like it.”

We fall into a rhythm and move together. It’s easy and fun and I’m horrible at it. I’m sure I look like a moron to everyone in the bar. Robbie wasn’t kidding when he said he’d laugh at me, but I don’t care. I’m enjoying myself.

Flailing arms and all.

We’re three songs in when he drops his hands to his knees, still laughing at me.

“Okay, no. I’m done. I can’t take this anymore. You sucksobad. It’s too awkward to watch.”

“Then teach me, you meanie!”

“Oooh, meanie—good one.”

“Come on, Robbie. I want to do this!” I shout over the music.

The song ends and shifts seamlessly into a slower one.

“Okay, now this I can do,” I insist, stepping toward him and positioning our arms where they need to be.

“What in the hell are you doing, woman? You donotballroom dance in the middle of a bar.”

“But this is how you slow dance. We’re slow dancing, right?”

“This isn’t a damn Disney movie. Get over here.”

He grips my waist and hauls me close to him so fast I let out ahmphwhen we collide.

The music sways to life around us as Robbie drags my arms up around his neck before gripping my hips and lining them up with his. He starts moving us to the beat, and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever done before. We’re rubbing against one another in ways meant for behind closed doors.

It’s so sensual, sosexy.

“This isn’t your traditional slow dance song, is it?” I ask, our foreheads resting against one another.

“Thisis bumping and grinding, Monty.”

He pushes his hips into me, and there’s no missing the erection he’s sporting.

“Okay, I believe you,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut at the contact.

“This is killing me, you know.”

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