Page 47 of Just a Little White Lie

Shirtless or not, he issoannoying.

He just snickers and looks at the yearbooks for a moment before slapping them all closed.

“I can’t help ya, Mama Hoofer. I don’t dance anymore.”

“But why? You were so good at it.”

He clenches his jaw and gives his head a minute shake. “Can’t help you. Sorry.”

“No you’re not.” I sigh, snatching up the books and hating my failed attempt.

Why did I even bother? Jack’s as stubborn as my dance students.

Impossible!

Failure niggles at the back of my mind, mocking me for once again jumping into a quick, thoughtless decision. But I can’t screw this up, because it won’t just be me paying the price if I humiliate those kids on a Dance-Mania stage!

Maybe if I drop to my knees and beg Jack to help me.

I eye him up, considering my options, and his gaze connects with mine again.

His right eyebrow arches, amplifying his sex appeal by like ten thousand. It’s lucky I can keep my tongue in my mouth. I want to bite my lip again, let my gaze crawl over every inch of his smooth, hard flesh and—

“Hey, what are you doing in Jack’s room?” Luke stops by the doorway with a perplexed frown.

I jump, flustered by my heated imagination, then spin with a scowl. “I’m asking him to help me out with something, but of course he’s refusing!” I throw a glare over my shoulder, flicking my arm in Jack’s direction.

He looks a little hurt, and I don’t understand why.

I’m the one who’s hurting!

I signed my students up for a dance competition and have royally screwed us all because I don’t know what I’m doing, and the one man who does is refusing to help me.

“I don’t think you should be hanging out in his room.” Luke darts a worried look between us, and I blink like he’s crazy.

With a loud scoff, I push past him, then stop in the hallway and spin back to tell him off. “Can I just clarify that I am twenty-six years old, you’re not my father, and if I want to hang out in Jack’s room, then I have every right. Good God, Luke! We’re not thirteen!”

He huffs and crosses his arms. “He’s my best friend, and the idea of him hooking up with my sister is… it’s creepy, so just stay out of his room.” He spins back and points at Jack. “And you stay out of hers.”

“This is ridiculous,” I mutter. “It’s not like that between us.” I give my brother a pointed glare, then call over his shoulder, “You’re welcome into my roomanytime, Jack.”

The moment the words leave my mouth, my entire body flushes with a pulsing red heat. I spin before Luke can see my blush and make a dive for my open doorway. Slapping the wood closed, I rest against it and try to regulate my breathing.

Hugging the yearbooks to my chest, I close my eyes and wish I didn’t always say such stupid stuff. I just don’t think before I speak, you know?

“You also don’t think before you do,” I berate myself.

Slapping the books down on my legs, I turn to stare at my laptop and wonder if I should email and get out of the competition.

But I can’t.

These kids need something, and this could be that thing.

As long as I don’t screw it up for them.

With a little whimper, I shuffle to my bed and flop onto it.

I’m me. Of course I’m gonna screw it up!

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