Page 66 of Just a Little White Lie

My shoulders slump and I shake my head, wondering if I should go back out and tell her, but the idea makes my insides crawl, so instead I stomp around my bed and snatch the book off my nightstand.

I hear footsteps storming down the hallway, and soon she’s banging on my door.

Play it cool, man.

“Jack?” She pushes the door open and marches in, resting her hands on her hips and giving it to me straight. “This is ridiculous. What are you refusing to tell me? We were having a great time, and then you go all silent and broody. Why?”

Because that’s what I do with negative energy!

Feeling more than lame, I shake my head and shrug, keeping my eyes on the book in my hands.

“That is not an answer. And I can’t work with you if you’re gonna be all into it one minute and shunning me the next.” She crosses her arms, her flushed expression and fiery glare way more of a turn-on than it should be. “I’m not leaving this room until you tell me the truth.”

My eyebrows shoot up, then drop into a frown. Stubbornness rides over me while I try to get out of this with a playful little joke. “Looks like it could be a long night for you, Kitten.” I roll away from her, facing the wall and holding my book like I’m actually able to read it. I’m delusional, I won’t be able to get through one sentence knowing she’s right behind me, but she doesn’t need to know that.

She huffs, and then my bed shifts.

No. She’s not.

Aw, crap, she is.

She gets comfy behind me, sitting on my bed and moving around until she’s settledrightnext to me. Like her leg is touching my butt.

My insides are practically vibrating as I imagine turning over, yanking on her legs, and securing her beneath me. I’d like nothing more than to cover her mouth with mine, to feel her hot little body move against me.

I inch away from her, trying to do the right thing.

But she just moves with me.

I try again, and she follows, refusing to let up until I’m practically on the floor.

Jumping off my mattress, I turn to her with an exasperated growl. “Argh! Why are you so frustrating?”

I don’t mean it, but I can’t yell what I really want.

Why can’t I have you?

Why do you have to be related to my best friend?

Why are you wanting to unearth my greatest pain and regret?

I slap my book on the nightstand, desperate to get out of this situation.

“Because I want the truth, Jack. We’re about to start working together, and you’ve got some big fat secret that I need to know. Now tell me what your problem is with dancing. I could see how much you loved working with the students today, and as soon as they left, you got all sullen, like you’re not allowed to enjoy dancing anymore. Why?”

Crap, she notices everything.

I didn’t mean for that feeling to wash over me, but it just did. I was having a freaking blast. Dancing, feeling the music flowing through me, instructing people again. And then the bell rang, and they left, and it hit me. Those ugly, raw, wounded jabs that reminded me of everything I’ve lost.

“I…” With a sharp huff, I look to the floor and shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, too bad, because I need to know.”

“No you don’t.”

“I can’t work with you unless you tell me.”

“Fine, we won’t work together, then. I withdraw my help.” The words snap out of me, and I don’t actually mean to say them.

---