Chapter Forty-Six Julia
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
“The brightness of the city lights can make you completely forget that it’s dark at all.”
—Remington
Julia
I was shaking as we walked into the ballroom, but there was something about Damion’s hand holding mine that made everything less scary.
It was a little jarring, realizing how wrong I’d been about him.
It was a little unfair.
I’d judged him by the way his parents behaved, by how much money he had, by how he looked, and I had a lot of guilt for that because, clearly, underneath it all, he was an amazing guy.
Worthy of the trust that I had taken so long to give him.
“By the way, you look surprisingly nice in all white.”
“Did you doubt me?” He looked at me out of the corner of his eye and made a face. “I look hot, right?”
“A little bit, yeah,” I admitted with a laugh. “Actually, kind of a lot.”
“You stop that right now, Julia Nebraska,” he said, his fingers tightening around mine, his voice low. “Flirting with me in front of all these people is a terrible idea.”
“Why is that?” I couldn’t stop myself from teasing a little more because, God help me, I loved his tone when he acted like I made him weak. “You can’t handle it, Rutledge?”
“No, it’s just a terrible idea because I don’t give a damn what they think,” he explained, looking like the rebel he was. “I’m on my best behavior right now, for you, but I have zero qualms about kissing the shit out of you right here in front of God and everybody.”
“Oh,” I managed, feeling a little lightheaded, wishing we were alone.
“So if you want that, keep it up,” he said, his eyes holding mine like he was waiting for my next move.
And I’d clearly lost the ability to make good choices, in my rebellious era, because I leaned a little closer and said, “You talk a big game for someone in a white tux—”
His mouth cut off my words.
In an instant, his big hands were on my face, holding my cheeks, angling so our lips were perfectly aligned. He kissed me with everything, deep and thorough, but it was a tiny bite, like a nipping sample of the real big thing, and I was disappointed that he pulled back so quickly.
“I need more,” he said, his mouth a breath from mine, “but I don’t want to mess up your pretty lipstick.”
I could barely speak as he looked at me like that, like he wanted to push me into a closet and show me everything he knew but was too thoughtful to be selfish.
“I appreciate that,” I whispered, wondering how I was so lucky, wondering how it was that Damion Rutledge was looking at me that way. “Perhaps later?”
“Oh, there’s no perhaps about it,” he said, and then, as if it hadn’t happened, his fingers were back between mine and we were walking again. “So did Bernard or your mom tell you how this first-dance thing goes down?”
“They told me we have to do a first dance,” I said. “That’s really all they said.”
“Well, apparently my parents are going to welcome everyone to the ball and say a bunch of things to the donors about the school. After that, the band leader will call for the host couple to dance, which is us.”
“Have I mentioned this is insane?” I said, feeling faint at the idea of dancing in front of everyone.
“You have and I agree, but seeing you in that dress and knowing I’m allowed to put my hands all over you makes me somehow appreciate it.”
I took a deep breath and nodded.
At least we were doing it together.
No big deal, right?
My eyes traveled over the room, seeing the Toms, who were all wearing top hats and ridiculous shirts; the Skins, who looked like they belonged in the movie the ball was inspired by; and all the parents, who were dressed in elegant black formalwear.
And I felt like I wanted to pass out when the man said, “Let’s welcome our host couple for the first dance of the night.”
Everyone applauded as the lights dimmed, and Damion snatched the glass from my hand and put it on the table beside his. “Are you ready, Cinderella?”
His words, and the expression on his face, warmed my goose-bumped arms. “I am.”
“Then let’s do this. Let’s give Edith and Mr. Berry the dance they never got to have.”
We walked onto the dance floor, where a literal spotlight awaited us. When we reached its center he leaned close, lowering his head and saying into my ear, “Just keep your eyes on me. You won’t be nervous if you’re only looking at me, right?”
“Right,” I lied, nodding like I was capable of non-nervousness at that moment.
He straightened to his full height and lifted his arms, and I stepped into them, positioning myself the way Bernard had taught me.
The music started, and the combination of Damion’s one hand on my body and the other one in my hand felt like it was more than him dancing with me; it was holding me up.
It was partnering.
It was all the support I needed.
Box step, step-step turn, change of places.
“Attagirl,” he said quietly, smiling down at me like he was proud. “You’re killing this.”
“Bernard taught me,” I admitted.
“Well, you’re a natural,” he said. “Although, it could just be your incredible partner.”
“Yeah, how did you learn?” I asked. “Did you take manners and dancing classes when you were little?”
“No,” he said. “But I had an uncle who thought it was important to learn to waltz. He grew up in another time, I guess.”
“Well, you’re pretty okay at it,” I said, wanting to memorize the way his face looked at that moment, relaxed and teasing and so ridiculously handsome it was almost hard on my eyes.
“He also taught me the cosmic dip, but that’s a little advanced for you,” he said.
“Oh my God, are you serious?” I said with a laugh, unable to believe the words he’d just said. “Bernard literally taught me the same thing and he called it the cosmic dip. Was that a thing?”
Damion got the tiniest wrinkle between his brows, and his smile slipped for a second as his eyes moved all over my face.
“Hello?” I said. “Cosmic dipper…?”
“Do you want to do it?” he asked, cutting me off, his eyes getting that devilish twinkle as he waited for my answer.
“You want to cosmic dip me in front of everybody? What if you drop me?”
“Oh, I won’t drop you,” he said, every word dripping with overconfidence. “The biggest risk is that you’ll fall so madly in love with me you’ll never see another man the same way again.”
“Wow,” I said, grinning up at him. “I am not risk-averse, it seems, because I think we should try it.”
“Wait,” he said, his jaw flexing before he swallowed hard. “You’re willing to risk it? The idea of falling in love with me doesn’t send you running?”
I knew I shouldn’t admit to it or fall into these feelings again, but I meant it with my whole chest when I said, “Not even a little bit.”
His smile grew as he looked down at me, the power of his full-scale grin warming every goose bump on my skin as we both realized what I meant.
“Here we go, then, Jules,” and then he dipped me so far back that I could feel the tips of my hair brush the ballroom floor. All I could see was his face, leaning down over me as he said, “Let’s fall together.”