Page 35 of Break the Barrier
I take that as my chance to get her to myself for a minute.
Standing, I abandon my little table in the back corner and make my way to the side of the bar that’s open for the workers to run in and out of.
When Thea catches sight of me at the end, she does a double take, and on the second one, her lips grow into a grin, and I see that blush rise into her cheeks.
She ducks her head for a minute before saying something to Annmarie, who shoos her away without looking.
Thea makes her way through her employees until she gets to me, and by the time she’s standing there, she’s schooled her expression and gives me a cool and calculating look.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, looking around the bar. Presumably for some of my usual buddies I show up with.
“Had some time, thought I’d stop by.” Complete bullshit.
“Oh.” She looks behind me and purses her lips. “Where’s Lue?”
“With my mom,” I answer, looking at her again and hearing the music change. A thought occurs to me, something she said last time we danced here.“I don’t dance here, I work here.”
Well, now was the opportunity to show her she could do both.
“May I have this dance?”
She lifts a brow and looks around the bar. “What? Why?”
“Because you deserve a dance.”
She eyes me again and sighs. “I’m working.”
“I’m pretty sure they can spare you for three minutes.”
I look around and lock eyes with Annmarie, gesturing from her sister to me and to the dance floor. Annmarie waves us off like she couldn’t care less and turns back to work.
“See? All good.”
“Logan.” She groans my name but lets me take her hand and pull her out through the crowd and onto the dance floor. I wrap her up in my arms, her body stiff against mine, and I raise my eyebrows at her.
She sighs and loosens up. “I’m supposed to be working tonight. I’ve had two nights off in a row.”
“Even bosses get breaks, Thea. And something tells me you rarely take time enough for yourself as it is.”
She looks away, letting me lead her in a dance, following my lead with only a couple of bobbles.
“You don’t dance much.”
Thea shrugs at my observation but says nothing else.
“When was the last time someone asked you to dance?”
Her eyes meet mine, and she frowns. “You did. Last week.”
“Before that, I mean.”
Again, she looks away from me, her hand loosely holding my own.
“Thea.” I frown at her, and she looks back at me. What she doesn’t say is written in her eyes, and I sigh, looking away from her this time. “Thea, you deserve to be asked to dance.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be asked.”
“Maybe you haven’t had the right person asking,” I retort, and our eyes clash together again as she absorbs those words.
