Page 19 of The Sweet Part
His mom studies me for a moment before saying, “How old is your daughter?”
“Sophie’s five. She started kindergarten this year.” I glance over to the dance floor, where Sophie’s twirling this way and that, trying to get her dress to puff out. She’s having the time of her life. The things I do for her. The level of awkwardness for me tonight has reached all new levels.
Mason takes my hand. “Come on, let’s dance.” He pulls me away from his parents. I say a quick bye to them, so relieved to step away that I don’t even worry about dancing with him. He leads us to the far corner of the dance floor, away from their curious eyes.
“You definitely take after your dad,” I say.
He smiles, his brown eyes dancing with amusement. “True. Mom’s a little rough around the edges. I’m told she mellowed with age. Have you ever met a blackbelt, fearless woman who kicks ass and takes names?”
“I have now.”
He starts moving to the beat. He has good rhythm.Don’t think about what that means.
I start dancing, hoping his parents aren’t watching us. “Your mom must’ve been strict.”
“Not at all, but she had certain rules, mostly meant to keep us boys from killing each other. Things got physical between me and my brothers in a heartbeat. Mom put a laminated poster in the kitchen to remind us how to settle arguments, the order of who sits in the front seat of the car, and who gets the TV remote on what day. That kind of thing.”
“Wow. My sister and I were peaceful and played together nicely.”
“You never fought?”
“We argued, especially as teens, but it never got physical.”
I’m not sure who moves first, but we’re suddenly closer, dancing in time to the thumping beat. My world narrows down to him. His gaze shifts from my eyes to my cheek to my lips. I lick them, suddenly self-conscious. I can feel the heat of his body, and I’m hyperaware of mine, every nerve standing at attention.
The song ends suddenly, and I pull away, overwhelmed by the intensity. I glance at him. He looks as dazed as I feel. Another song picks up with a line dance. That seems much safer.
We join in. It’s a relief to stand next to him but not so close. He smiles at me when he misses a step and gamely corrects course.
A series of fun dances follows—the chicken dance, the hokey-pokey, and finally, “Twist and Shout.”
I’m flushed with exertion, enjoying myself more than I thought I would. “Twist and Shout” ends, and a slow song starts. I freeze, part of me wanting to slow dance with Mason, part of me terrified of feeling too much for a man I need to keep in the friend zone.
Sophie runs over to Mason. Her hair’s damp with sweat, her color high. “Let’s dance again.” She grabs his arms and steps on his feet.
Mason lifts her off his feet. “Actually, I’m going to dance with your mom.” My heart lurches. This is dangerous territory.
She brushes the hair from her face. “Okay. I’m sweaty.”
“I’ll get you some water,” I say, taking her hand and walking off the dance floor.
After I pour her a glass of water from a pitcher on our table, my eye catches on Mason. He’s across the room, his eyes locked on me. A shiver runs down my spine. There’s something between us, an attraction. I need to keep my distance.
After the slow song, the music picks up with “YMCA,” and we all crowd the dance floor. Mason shows Sophie the moves. His cousins Mackenzie and Harper join us. They’re my neighbors across the street. Both have long brown hair, Harper’s a shade lighter. They could pass for sisters even though they’re cousins.
I laugh, watching everyone do the letters to the song. Mackenzie really bends her body to look like the YMCA letters.
Harper hitches a thumb at her. “Former cheerleader.”
Mackenzie smiles brightly. “And I work out to keep up my flexibility.”
When the song ends, Mason says, “Excuse me, looks like my dad needs me.”
I walk off the dance floor with Mackenzie and Harper. “That was fun.”
“It was,” Mackenzie says. “Mason’s into you. I can tell.”
I try valiantly not to blush and fail. “Just friends,” I mutter. Who knew his family would be so eager to put us together? I’m sure he meets plenty of women.
