Chapter 12
Connor
Connor hated that Daisy remained unaffected by his closeness. He wanted her. Her front pressed against him, and his hands squeezing her hips solidified that.
He was dying inside, desperate to touch her, and it took less than a minute for her to disregard him and find a willing dance partner.
She had just approached a random, strange man and asked him to dance.
This jealousy streak was out of character for him.
He wished he could stamp it down and let Daisy have her fun without having a meltdown.
Fucking Lover. Connor had learned long ago that when a woman told you they could do something, they could do it. He ripped his gaze off Daisy long enough to ask, “What the fuck was that?”
Lover took a shot the bartender had brought by and handed one to Connor, who hesitated for a second before downing it. He didn’t drink often during the season, but one weekend of drunkenness would be fine. The alcohol better work to numb the sting of seeing another man’s hands on her body.
“Don’t worry!” Lover assured him. “I have a plan.”
“You have a plan?”
“Yes.”
“Well, what is it? What’s this grand idea of yours?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Sounds like you don’t have a plan.”
Hazy let them bicker a little before he jumped into the conversation. “I also have a plan.”
Connor threw his hands up. “For fuck’s sake. Does nobody want to let me in on these harebrained ideas?”
Both men shook their heads, and Connor took another drink.
A fiddle played as Daisy stepped onto the dance floor.
Connor didn’t recognize the song, but Daisy mouthed the words as she stepped into her dance partner’s embrace.
The man stood tall and lean, but Connor had at least seen him lift another girl earlier.
He hoped the guy could handle Daisy’s weight.
He crossed his arms, flexing his arms and chest as he watched. He would be able to handle her weight.
The steady beat of the song got faster and faster as they twirled around the floor.
The man led Daisy in spins and lifts. The first time her feet left the ground to do the cartwheel move Lover was impressed by, Connor clenched his jaw, holding his breath until her feet were safely back on the ground.
She made the move look effortless. Then the guy spun her fast and picked her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist.
He could barge over there and rip her away from the stranger, but he didn’t think Daisy would appreciate the intrusion. Instead, he watched, and drank, as she completed move after dangerous move.
She was an expert. The twists, turns, and lifts seemed to come easily to her. With every twirl she stretched a hand into the perfect position for her partner to grab it. If it weren’t so stressful, it would be beautiful.
“Well, fuck,” Lover said as they watched her partner position her into what was basically a handstand on his shoulders. Her dress rode up around her waist, showing off the shorts she wore underneath. “I’m going to have to sing karaoke.”
“Guess so,” Hazy agreed. “Good thing we have my bet as a backup. I should get started.” He slid out of the booth and approached a table of girls, who greeted him enthusiastically.
When Daisy’s dance ended, she left her partner waiting on the dance floor as she jogged away from him, one finger held up indicating for him to wait.
At the bar she stole a stack of napkins and a pen before returning to the stranger, who stood stock still waiting for her.
He wrote something on one of her napkins and handed it back to her.
She stuffed the napkin into the pocket of her dress.
Despite his annoyance, Connor’s lips ached to twitch into a smile. His teammates were idiots. He’d never have bet against her. Hazy was going to get his ass handed to him.
A new song played, and Daisy started back to their table.
Connor’s relief was short-lived, though.
Another man asked her to dance. To a slower, sadder song.
If watching her do the fast-paced swirling of the swing dancing was torture, watching her wrapped in a man’s arms, one of his hands on her waist and the other holding her hand against his chest as they rose and fell across the dance floor was literal hell.
Lover folded a paper coaster into triangles and flicked it at Connor. “She won’t know you want to dance with her unless you tell her.”
“I don’t want to dance.”
“But you don’t want anyone else to dance with her either.”
Connor refused to acknowledge that truth.
When he didn’t respond, Lover pressed him again. “The girl wants to dance, man.”
“I can’t dance like that.”
“I bet she could teach you.”
Connor didn’t doubt it. He was certain there were a lot of things she could teach him. But she wasn’t his to learn from.
“Why would she teach me when there are fifty other people lined up who already know how? Seems like a waste of time when she could be having fun.”
Lover flicked another paper coaster, hitting Connor straight in the forehead. “For an old dude, you sure are dumb.”
“I’m twenty-eight.”
“That’s getting up there in hockey years.”
“I’m well aware.”
Lover slid out of the booth. “Well, if you won’t ask her, maybe I will.”
“Go for it,” Connor pouted. But Lover didn’t head to the dance floor. He joined Hazy, taking up a wingman position.