8. gray
8
GRAY
“ J ust now?" Amelia blurted out, staring at me with wide eyes.
"Always." My answer was just loud enough that there was a chance she could hear it.
She rolled her eyes before letting her hand drop into mine. Together, we got up, but instead of pulling her close right there, I led her further into the darkness behind us. If she didn't want to be watched, we needed to put more distance between ourselves and the assembled guests.
"Didn't I mention something about rolling your eyes?" I whispered to her, pushing her ahead of me.
"What are you going to do about it, Gray?"
In response, I wrapped my hands around her waist and spun her around, causing her to bump against me. Neither the light from the campfire nor the moon above was enough to properly see her face, but her dark eyes reflected the sparkle of the stars—or maybe it was just that defiant look that always tested my nerves whenever she tried to use it against me.
"You do realize I don't know how to dance, right?"
For some reason, she spoke softly, and I matched her volume. "Yes. That's why I'm leading."
My hands remained on her hips, making it easy to take the first step. The singing from the campfire reached us just enough to catch the rhythm of the slow song.
After a few seconds, Amelia raised her arms and wrapped them around my neck. With every step, her feet bumped against mine. She moved on tiptoe.
"Where are your shoes, Amelia?"
"Lost them," she said. Was there a smile in her voice?
"You're just in socks now?"
"I didn't want to break your toes."
"My toes are just fine."
"Because I'm not wearing shoes," she countered. I laughed.
Even if she tried, she wouldn't be able to break a single bone of mine.
Instead of responding, I unlinked her arms from my neck, intertwined one hand with hers, and spun her around before pulling her back against my chest.
"Whatever Wilder said to you earlier—my stance hasn't changed."
"He didn't say anything," she repeated, but I didn't believe a word. I had caught the expression on her face during that conversation. It wasn't small talk about barbecues and bars, just as it was no casual back-and-forth earlier in the evening.
"So will you listen to me and not whatever he whispered to you?" I spun her around again, and this time, when she crashed into my chest, it was with such force that her fingers dug into the fabric of my shirt so tightly that I could feel her nails.
Despite the poor lighting, I saw her cheeks darken.
"You're blushing, Amelia."
"I'm aware. Thanks."
Her response made me grin. "Will you tell me why that is?"
"If you haven't noticed, Gray," she began, with that sarcastic tone that stirred my blood, "it happens every time you look at me like that."
"Maybe I should never stop then? What would happen if I stripped you down piece by piece so I can take you in the same way while you stand completely naked in front of me?"
"Why don't you find out?"
Suddenly, I could no longer hear the background noise of the campfire, only a shrill whistle in my ears.
"Tell me," I demanded, stubbornly clinging to my resolve at my own expense.
We both paused, the magic of the dance suddenly broken. Amelia bit her lower lip before shaking her head in disbelief.
"I can't. Not now. Not when…" Her gaze swept over my face, filled with regret.
I had no doubt that it caused her the same physical pain as it did me, yet I could understand her decision and couldn't hold it against her in any way.
But the sparks of her touch continued to dance over my skin. Whatever she might say, that remained unchanged. That still didn't mean I would pressure her into something she wasn’t ready for.
Amelia wasn't here because I desired her body.
I wanted all of her—for as long as she was willing to give it to me.
Even though it clearly affected her too. "I should head for bed."