Page 63 of Dance for Me

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Chapter Eleven

She could get used to waking up warm and comfortable.

It made a lovely change to jolting awake, muscles knotted by the cold and damp, shivering despite the layers of clothing she wore to keep herself warm. Maybe the landlord had taken pity on her and turned the heating back on for a couple hours.

She wasn’t going to complain.

Bodie stirred, humming contentedly in her throat. Soft warmth caressed her back as she rested facedown on an equally warm but much harder mattress. It took her drowsy brain far longer than it should have to click onto the fact that she didn’t own either a soft duvet capable of retaining any kind of heat, and that her mattress possessed all the fineness of a rotten banana.

Forcing her eyes open, they rolled in their sockets as she fought off the draw of sleep waiting to suck her under again. It seemed ridiculous to entertain thoughts of moving when she was so sinfully comfortable.

Her mattress lifted beneath her, then an arm rested over her lower back. She stiffened immediately, eyes popping wide with no intention of going back to sleep now. Well, this just took the cake, didn’t it? How many precarious positions could she end up in?

Assessing the situation, Bodie came to the conclusion her body was up to no good. From what she could tell, she was completely naked yet again, and Braun only had clothes on his lower half. Her bare breasts were squished unabashedly into the hard pecs of his equally bare chest, and she’d managed to wedge her face into the curve of his neck and shoulder.

One arm was flung to the side, the other was half buried beneath what had been her pillow until she evidently traded it in for the human version in her sleep. And her legs...well, there were roses climbing trestles looser than the tangle of Braun’s limbs and hers.

Her pussy, the wanton hussy, was more than excited to welcome the thick erection knocking politely for entry through the material of Braun’s shorts. The dirty flirt was already wet and achy, ready to send out housewarming invitations, and it would seem Braun was ready to RSVP with a hell yes.

Fingers flexed against her hip, the heavy arm low on her back twitching. “Far too fucking early for your busy brain to be this awake,” the man beneath her grumbled, the vibrations of his words humming into her, chest to chest. “Shit, it’s still dark out. Go back to sleep, Bodie.”

She stayed very, very still. If he thought she’d drifted back off to la-la land, maybe he wouldn’t get any ideas about having a certain conversation she really wanted to avoid. Once he went back to sleep, she was totally getting out of there.

Until she figured out what she wanted, how much she could handle, it wasn’t fair to him to keep pulling away then letting him suck her back in. Neither of them gained anything, and she knew it wouldn’t end well for either of them.

Talking with Connie had loosened some things inside her, opened her eyes to how her life should—could—be if she got her act together and got off this nightmarish carousel. Maybe one day, when she was in a better place, she could come back to this, to Braun, and they could try again.

Fresh start.

If he wasn’t dating someone, of course, or married.

Expecting a baby with the new love of his life.

Bodie frowned, unsure what to do with the ache in her chest at the thought of Braun finding someone else, falling in love and starting a family with a nameless, faceless woman. Because marriage and family and kids wasn’t on her agenda, no sir.

Looking after herself was trial enough.

But he wouldn’t be alone forever—that was both a relief and a small agony she couldn’t resolve.

Come on, she chastised herself. You can barely keep a roof over your head and food in the cupboards. You sleep on a heap of covers on the floor, dressed in layers of clothing to keep warm, because you’re too afraid to buy a fucking bed in case the family find out. How could you have a baby, raise it, knowing they’re waiting for an excuse to string you up from the rafters and call it justice?

That was the crux of it.

Her family was the thorn in her side, and she let them stab her in the back, in the heart, in the fucking head because she didn’t want to incur their wrath and face what came after. She’d become this because she was too scared to change, to step out of line, because she was aware of what waited for her when she did.

Pathetic.

She had enough money saved up to get her away from here. Just get in her car and drive away, over as many state lines as she could cross. Maybe go north, up to North Dakota or Montana for a while. Hunker down in a log cabin for a few months until she hashed out the shit in her life and found where she needed to be.

She didn’t even have to go back to that wretched apartment if she didn’t want to. There was nothing left there for her, no keepsakes or mementos that were vital to her wellbeing. Everything she needed was stashed in her car under the passenger seat, so if she decided to go, there was nothing stopping her...

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