Love Me Crazy (20 page)

I count several measures but her feet don’t follow mine and she trips. “I’ll catch you; don’t worry about falling.”

Twenty minutes later, I take a break and sit on the floor. She attempts to box step in a huge circle around me sans music. The
click, click, click
of her heels reminds me of my own dance lessons years ago with Annabeth. That’s how we met. Paired by the teacher. We were
perfect
on the dance floor. Then we were perfect for each other. Our parents became friends and our choices no longer mattered. We became perfect high school sweethearts. Perfect prom court winners. Perfect. Perfect. Goddamn perfect. But it never felt real. Cassidy feels real. Every curve, every sigh, every smile—they intensify my wish to be with her. Annabeth just makes me cringe.

Cassie kicks off her shoes, drawing my attention to her painted toes. She lowers and rests one hand on each of my knees. “Spill.”

“What?” I glance around the room. “Right, waltz.”

“No.” Her smile goes crooked making her freckles stretch across her cheeks.

A curl falls from her clip. I tuck the blue-tinged strands behind her ear and trace the crease hiding a small stud. A tiny diamond.

She turns away from my touch, causing my fingers to draw down her neck. Her posture softens, curving her toward me. The tiny shiver, the slight shrug . . ..they bring her closer. All I want is to be the one who makes her uncertainties evaporate.

I rise to my feet, leaving her kneeling on the ground. It would’ve been easier to lean in and kiss her and remind her that she alone, turns my days around. I’d kiss her so deep that I’d find her secrets. And she’d learn mine.

I offer my hand and she gives me a shy smile before taking it. I fold her into my arms, maybe a little closer than the waltz should be danced, but I just can’t stand the distance.

The door opens and we both pause to see who’s joining us. Cassie’s fingers dig into my skin. She pushes me away but I tug her closer and win our tug of war.

“
I thought I heard music. Practicing?” Annabeth strolls in and drops her purse by the door. She kicks off her flip-flops and walks up to us. “Quinny is a pro because he had a great partner. Here, let me show you
real
ballroom dancing.”

“We’re doing just fine.” I reluctantly release Cassie who steps back and folds her arms against her chest.

Her cheeks rage red and she squeezes her lips so tightly they blanch.

“Then for old time’s sake. Start the song over, Quinny; let’s show her the dance we did at my cotillion.”

“At Ellie’s cotillion,” I correct her.

“At
our
cotillion.” She grips my hand and stares pointedly down her nose, waiting for me to concede.

“I don’t remember it.” I step closer to Cassie.

“Fine, we’ll do the layman’s waltz.” Annabeth sighs and grabs my hand. She positions herself and gives me no chance to escape before reaching into my pocket, grabs the remote and starts the song over.

“Hands to yourself, Annabeth,” I warn.

“Hands on me, Quinny.”

Annabeth’s a striking girl, with the same inquisitive glare and sneaky demeanor she had in high school. She got away with everything. And it seems, she still does.

“Just watch our feet and the size of our stride,” I tell the girl who should be in my arms. “It’s a dipping, swaying kind of box step.”

I
swear Cassie rolls her eyes, but she drops her gaze to our feet and taps an impatient finger against her arm. I tug Annabeth stiffly into place and dare her to cross into my space. If anyone will be melting in my arms it will be Cassie.

I lead Annabeth through simple steps. She whispers how boring the dance is and takes over, leading me into an elaborate and complicated system of turns and steps.

“What are you doing?” I ask her as I twirl her against me, then away.

“Reminding you how perfectly we go together.”

“I’m not interested in your kind of perfect. There is no us. No together. No chance in hell.”

“Quinny, you’re such a bear sometimes.” She sighs dramatically. All things are drama with her. “Fine, I’ll give you a week to get her out of your system. Then, come back to me where you belong.” She shakes her head and continues. “It’s a shame, you know, coming back, reconciling with your sisters . . . your mom, and dragging a sweet, innocent girl like
her
into your mess. That’s what you’re doing, you know. But I’m willing to forgive you, Quinny, and your family will in time. Shouldn’t you spare that girl the pain and grief?”

I drop her hands and stare at her. “There’s nothing you can say to sway or tempt me back to loving you,” I whisper, but it comes out in a growl. Heat ignites at my center, charging me for a lightning strike. I clench my fists.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” She stretches her hands overhead, then does a graceful spin on her toes. “See. Easy,” she says to Cassie. “You’ll be doing spins in no time. Want me to show you?”

She
skips up to Cassie before I can stop her and positions herself in
my
place. Cassie glances over Annabeth’s shoulder. I can’t tell if she’s shocked or pissed. Probably both. Lord knows, I’ve got fire running in my veins at the moment.

“Be a dear and restart the song, Quinny.” Annabeth throws me a coy smile.

“Just the box step,” I say as I push Play.

Annabeth talks Cassie through the first steps, as I had. She catches on so Annabeth throws in a spin. Cassie grits her teeth on the reconnect but keeps chugging through Annabeth’s demands.

Toward the end of the song, Annabeth pulls her close and whispers something. Cassie stares at her, then says something back, which puts a suspicious catlike grin on Annabeth’s face. She drops her hands and dusts them off.

“Well, she’s better than when she started. You’re welcome, Quinny. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?” Annabeth grabs her bag and heads out the door, not waiting for a reply.

I glance at Cassie, unsure of what to say or do next. “What did she say to you?”

“Apparently you’re on loan. I can return you at the end of my stay.”

Say what? I can’t even—

“Don’t worry; I told her I can’t return what I’ve already used.”

“Oh.”
Oh. Um . . . what do I say to that?
“What she showed you is way too, um, complex for a beginner.”

“Is that what you like, Quinn? Complex?”

“No, actually.” I shake my head. “Let’s try again.” I ask, ready to rid the awkward tension between us.

“I think I’m good for today.”

“
Cassie, please.” I walk up to her. “Just one more try. You did great with her, I know you can do it, but I want the last person I danced with to be you.”

“I’m not too simple?” Her lip begins to poke out. She has nothing to be jealous about, but it sure does look good on her.

“Actually, you’re the right kind of perfect.” I lift her arms into place. “Light, airy.” I smile, happy to have her back in my arms.

“Yes, I know. Straight spine, head tilt. Let’s get this over with so I can leave.”

Like hell. I’m making this last as long as possible. The classical piece drones on and on, and she’s punchy with the steps. Different than earlier. “Lighter, Cass,” I whisper. “Let me lead, close your eyes and follow.”

“This isn’t working. This music sucks and my back hurts, and you’re a jackass. Can I go?” She rolls her shoulders and drops her arms.

“I’m a jackass?”

“Are we done?”

I switch the song and pull her into a tight closed position. “No,” I breathe, lips inches from the stud in her ear.

“This isn’t the waltz.”

“It’s the jackass waltz. Now close your eyes and listen. Don’t move. I’ll move you. Don’t talk, don’t count, just be.” She closes her eyes and turns her face away. “Let the jackass lead, please.”

Her chest hardens against mine with a held breath.

I can guess the reason for the shift in her, but I can’t let her leave angry. We’re finishing this. I’m fucking making her see me and not what someone else wants her to see.

Guitars
and maracas take over the silence. She loosens when a voice sings the melody. Her finger taps the beat against my arm. I graze my fingertips up her spine, then down to rest on her lower back.

She opens her eyes. “I’ve got it. Start the song over.”

I put the tune on Repeat and we’re off. Our bodies press together. The first few laps we keep form. By the third, my arms drift down, fingertips grazing her skin above her waistband. She rests her chin against my shoulder and tucks her elbow between us. I press my lips against her blue fingers, the freckles on her shoulder. Her soft neck.

“Quinn.” She squirms against me but doesn’t pull away.

I hover my lips above the dip in her collarbone. “You’re beautiful.”

She softens and relaxes into me as I guide us into smaller circles, shorter steps, until we’re barely moving. The lowering sun gives way to shadows, peppering her face with gentle light. Picture perfect. My heart hums quietly, calmly. God, she blows me away. She centers me and pushes everything thrown at me into oblivion. Wish I could do the same for her.

“I want to be honest with you,” I whisper as we rock offbeat.

“That doesn’t sound good?” Her ear brushes against my lips as she pulls away.

“Wait.”

She rubs her ear and scowls, making me want her more. I pull her in and hold her until she nestles against my shoulder.

“At the Battery, Annabeth implied she’d be waiting for me to screw up. With you. She thinks you’re trouble and figures once the wedding’s past, you’ll be gone.”

“I get it. I—”

“Let me finish, please.”

She
nods and bites my shirt, which is sexy as hell, but probably the only thing stopping her from bleating out in defiance.

“I like you, Cassie.”

She bites harder and the warmth from her breath wakes my skin.

“And I’m done playing this game.”

“Where are you going with this?” she mumbles.

“Annabeth was my first . . . for a lot of things. I don’t think I’ll forget those moments, but they’re in the past. She’s my past.” I tilt her chin up. “I want many firsts with you, because you’re the kind of trouble I like to get into.”

“You see me as trouble?”

I pull her closer. “Oh yes. Fun trouble. Sexy trouble.”

I massage her lower back with my fingers. The heat between us doubles as she leans against me, but, still, she’s looking through me. And I want her to understand. “What do you want, Cassie?” It’s a risky question because she could break me right here.

Her eyes dart to mine as she steps back. Fear highlights the shadows, then recedes, pulled under like a wave swept through her. I spot a sliver of a chance.

“Come here.” I gently tug her close and trace infinity signs under her ear. I track my lips across her jaw, up her chin to her perfect red lips but stop just shy of contact. I stare at them, wishing to taste them. To feel how smooth they are. I slip my gaze to hers. “I want
you
, Cassie. Your tangled strings, all your baggage, all your memories. Because having you means you get all of me—strings, baggage, and guilt. And I really want you to have me.”

“Why? We’re both broken.”

“But the right kind of broken.” I lean closer, hovering my lips over hers.

Her
breath sends spicy charges over my skin, begging my lips to find hers.

My eyes drift shut as I lean into them. Her lips graze my chin as her hand slips away. I tilt my head down to feel her breath against my skin. The brush of heat enough to awaken my cock.

“Quinn,” she whispers.

My name isn’t hate or indecision on her lips. There’s a request in her sigh. But fear in her quivering lip. She wants my kisses and my touch—and maybe my heart—but she isn’t sure what to do with them. What she doesn’t realize is the past five years taught me patience. She can take as long as she needs to figure it out, and I’ll be waiting. “Yes?”

She looks up. “I think . . . getting into trouble with you suits me just fine.”

“Mmmm, I love the sound of that.”

Chapter
17

Cassidy

Quinn spins me around, making my feet leave the ground. When I land, I settle my feet on top of his. He dances me through the song again, not caring about the beat or my posture, just wanting to consume me for as long as possible.

He nuzzles the tender spot below my ear and scrapes his chin across my cheek, but doesn’t kiss me. Ever the gentleman when we’re in public, or semi-public. I know he’s treading carefully because he’s afraid my honesty back at his dad’s office might’ve been a false claim, but it wasn’t. I really want us to work.

To tamp down his unspoken fear, I welcome his lips into my space. I give his lower lip a little nibble, then sigh into him, wishing we were back at the empty office and not in the dining room where anyone could walk in. I didn’t have time to revel in the afterglow, and he left me lit up like nuclear aftermath. He moans against my lips, filling me with a heady high that only he can generate.

“I think we have the place to ourselves. Want to go upstairs?”

I nod and sweep my lips against his cheek.

He cuts the music off and grabs my hand, pulling me quickly behind him up the stairs.

Once we’re locked in his room, he strips his borrowed clothes from the Gentleman’s Quarters and trades them for a simple heather-blue tee and jeans. I’ve never seen him in jeans, and believe me, there are guys in jeans then gods in jeans. They fit snug in all the right places yet
look
more comfortable than a pair of sweats. I sigh inside a little because he’s not only the most handsome man I’ve ever laid on eyes on, he’s mine.
Mine
.

I glance down at the skirt Kat suggested I wear to get the correct feel on the dance floor.

“Want something more comfortable?”

I nod. Naked would be good.

He disappears into his closet and comes out with two shirts: a blue, worn, dress shirt and an emerald green tee-shirt hoodie. “I can’t decide if you’d look sexier wearing more indigo or not.”

I grab the green hoodie off the hanger. “Smart ass.”