Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Lauren
We’re in the middle of the most complicated part of the dance sequence when the sound of shattering glass grabs my attention.
I’m supposed to lift my arm up and over my partner’s head and then slide apart from him, but I can’t focus when I look over to find Jax and Jorge scrambling to wipe down the mess at the bar.
Across the room, Jax meets my gaze for a second.
The look on his face can only be described as desperation.
For what, I can’t be sure, but having his eyes on me makes me understand what people mean in romance books when they say their heart skipped a beat because I swear mine stopped for half a second.
That fleeting moment of peace is gone quickly when I accidentally stiff-arm my partner in the face. He keels over, groaning loudly.
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry.” I reach toward him in an effort to console him, but he shoves me back, holding his nose.
When he finally straightens, blood drips down his face and onto his clean shirt. “Look what you did! You have to watch what you’re doing.”
His words feel familiar, like something Austin would say to me.
“I’ll get you some ice,” I offer, trying to keep myself calm.
“That’s the least you could do,” he grumbles.
I know it was my fault for being distracted, but I’m not okay with someone talking to me like that anymore. It was an accident.
I stop on my way to the bar, crossing my arms. “On second thought, you can get it yourself. Maybe ask them if they have some manners to give you while you’re at it.” I storm off, weaving through the groups of dancers and sitting down at one of the picnic tables on the other end of the dance floor.
I take several deep breaths, processing what just happened.
I didn’t mean to be so rude, but everything that’s happened over the last few weeks has only showed me the ways I’ve been weak, and I’m tired of it.
I’m ready to find my strength, and I’m certainly not going to let some man in a clean pair of Tecovas make me feel like garbage.
Betsy comes to my side, flicking her mic off as she places her hand gently on my knee. “Is everything okay?”
“I gave my partner a bloody nose.”
“I saw.” She laughs.
“He might need some ice. I was going to help, but he was being a jerk, and I lost my temper.” I sag, feeling guilty already.
“No one likes a fake cowboy anyway.” Betsy makes a sour face. “I’ll be sure to get him some ice. In the meantime, do you need a new partner so you can finish your lesson?”
I pause. I should probably stop being a child and fix things, but I also don’t want to keep dancing with that man, and I’m not about to let another item on my list get derailed. “Please.”
Betsy swivels, turning her mic back on. “It appears we are down a dancer. Do one of the bartenders over there want to lend a hand?”
Jax calls out before Betsy’s even finished speaking. “I’ll do it.”
As he hops over the bar, she turns to me with a mischievous smile. “Someone is awfully eager to dance with you.”
A few women watch with curiosity and murmur amongst themselves.
My cheeks heat, and I loudly tell Betsy, “Mr. Overprotective over there. He’s always keeping an eye on me for Charlie.”
“Right.” Betsy purses her lips, giving me a sideways look. “He’s hopping a counter for Charlie.”
As Jax joins me, the adrenaline seems to catch up to him. He glances around, looking almost shy before turning back to me and saying, “I figured after watching these lessons the last three years, I should see if I’ve actually learned something. Besides, chicks love a man who can dance.”
I try not to let the words eat at me as I take his outstretched hand.
He pulls me closer to him, his warmth and masculine cologne curling around me. My gaze snags on his eyes, noting the juxtaposition of light and dark blue in them as my heart pounds in my chest.
I push down my tingling excitement. “Show me what you’ve got.”
He steps away, still holding on to one of my hands.
He does some fancy move where we pass each other in opposite directions.
There’s a brief moment where our hands break apart as he switches which hand is holding mine.
Anyone watching wouldn’t be able to tell, but I noticed.
It’s impossible not to notice a moment where I lose Jax’s touch, no matter how brief.
When our hands reconnect, he spins me around with a wide grin on his face. Then we’re back to where we started, chest to chest.
The whole move lasts less than five seconds, but when we stop, we’re both breathing heavily. Our gazes lock, and the smile on his face brings one to mine as well. Our fingers remain laced together, and I don’t want to pull them apart. This feels so natural.
I want to spend the rest of the day and all of forever with his hand in mine. I don’t care if they get clammy. I wouldn’t even care if someone told me right now that I had to choose between holding hands with Jax or eating an ice cream sundae. My hand is meant to fit in Jax’s.
Something in his soft eyes makes it clear that the flicker of excitement I’m feeling isn’t just in my head. He’s feeling it too. I open my mouth, but Betsy’s mic squeals in the speakers as she makes her way back to the front of the dance floor and begins instructing again.
She demonstrates the next move in the sequence with the help of a volunteer. As Jax and I reset, my fingertips vibrate.
Throughout the rest of the lesson, the seconds pass in slow motion so that I can feel Jax’s presence on every inch of my skin, but the minutes fly by.
We finish the last of the sequence just as Betsy claps her hands together, announcing, “That’s it for today. Great work everyone! Don’t forget to practice. It truly does make perfect. I hope to see y’all again soon.”
We clear the dance floor, and I follow Jax back to the bar where I figure I’ll reconvene with my friends.
Jorge greets us at the bar, a look of defeat on his face.
“I should’ve been the one out there. I need to up my game so I can have a chance with the ladies for once.
” He crouches below the bar then quickly pops back up.
“Do we have more paper towels, or do I need to make a trip to the store tomorrow?”
Jax rolls his eyes, plowing past him to conduct his own search.
Heather, one of the other bartenders, steps in.
“Your lack of dance skills isn’t the reason you don’t get the ladies, Jorge.
Besides, from what I hear, Jax has been out of the game for a few months.
” She shifts her gaze to me, a smirk on her lips.
“Now I see why. I heard y’all were at the diner together the other night too. ”
“Oh, that was nothing.” I swat the rumor away.
Heather mixes a drink with her lips pressed together. “Sure.” Lowering her voice, she says, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s not like the other women he’s picked up.”
“Jax and I are just bonded because of Charlie,” I explain as Jax comes back, tossing a roll of paper towels to Jorge.
Callie, Olivia, and Rhett come up behind me, Callie slapping a hand on my shoulder. “What’d you think of your first swing dance lesson? Was it everything you hoped it’d be?”
“And more,” I tease.
“I bet,” she mutters under her breath.
I narrow my eyes at her and turn away, not willing to have this conversation, especially not with so many nosey people around.
“Should we head out?” Rhett asks, pulling his keys from his pocket.
“Yeah, I just need to pee real quick.” I spin on my heel toward the bathrooms.
“Do you want company?” Olivia asks.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be fine.”
I cross the bar, use the restroom, and am barreling out of the women’s room when I bump into Jax’s chest.
“Oh, sorry.” Out of habit, I throw my hands up to Jax’s firm chest. When I look up at him, my breath catches, and I find myself rooted to the ground. “I guess I’m a bit of a klutz today.”
His chest vibrates against my hands as he chuckles. His smile fades, and he grabs my arm, pulling me to the side of the hallway and even closer to him as Ms. Sanchez comes down the hall behind me.
Once she’s in the restroom, Jax turns to me. “I saw what happened with your other partner. The lesson wasn’t the right time to talk about it, but I’m proud of you for sticking up for yourself.”
“Thank you.” My voice is small. He’s proud of me? I lost my temper! It doesn’t matter if he’s a jerk or if he reminded me of my ex. He’s still a human being. I should’ve shoved my feelings aside and helped get him some ice.
“Hopefully today showed you that you don’t need to fix everyone else all the time. Not everything is on you. You can let things be imperfect.”
I nod, and we both stand there, letting a heavy silence settle over us as Ms. Sanchez exits the bathroom and eyes us suspiciously.
In the quiet, my thoughts move at a million miles an hour.
He’s right. I’ve been feeling guilty about how I handled the situation.
Some part of me always feels the need to fix things.
It’s eaten away at me that I didn’t perfectly handle the situation, but maybe I shouldn’t look at today as a loss of control but me taking control back.
Today could actually be a step in the right direction, whether I realized it or not.
I glance up at Jax to find his eyes are trained on me. There’s a spark there that makes me think the chemistry I’ve felt tonight is mutual, and the revelations of this evening make me want to do something about it. I want to stop holding back.
Stepping closer to him, I ask, “Did you really just dance with me to test your dance moves after all these years, or was there another reason?” It definitely felt like something else.
He winces, remaining silent, which gives me all the space I need to analyze my actions from every angle.
Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. It feels like things between us have shifted so quickly, and I don’t know what it would mean if we admitted we had feelings for one another.
We can’t be a couple, can we? He’s my brother’s best friend.
That feels like a line I shouldn’t cross.
Not to mention I’m still healing. It’s been almost six months since ending things with Austin, but I’m still trying to figure out how to trust again.
Jax has never once in the entire time I’ve known him been in a real relationship.
It’s always been hookups and flings. I don’t want that for myself.
There are a million reasons I shouldn’t be with Jax, but I can’t bring myself to care enough about them.
All I can focus on is the way he looks at me and how it feels when he touches me.
He makes me believe I’m stronger, braver, and more worthy than I truly am, like maybe I actually can be as good as he sees me.
“Your question is kind of silly, don’t you think?” he murmurs.
“What do you mean?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
I shrug. “Not to me.”
“Of course I didn’t just come out there to try out my dance moves. I couldn’t care less about that, but I knew this lesson was important for you and your list. Your brother would’ve stepped in too.”
Disappointment floods me, even though I should probably be relieved right now. He’s looking out for me because of Charlie. This keeps things simpler, but there’s a large part of me screaming inside, saying maybe I don’t want simple.