Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
For this moment, at any rate, she’s the picture of happiness. She really gets going with B&E Cat, who, surprisingly enough, seems to enjoy being swung around and maneuvered into raising its paw in a disco arc. Up and down and across the body. He doesn’t slash Heather’s face with his meowder weapons of instant death. He stares at her placidly with his or her yellow eyes, and who would have thought that in addition to busting into houses that aren’t his and claiming a family of his own, he loves to dance?
I record most of it. It’s an opportunity that’s too good to miss out on. Heather rocks the song, and B&E Cat might have a future in the performing arts if being a family cat doesn’t work out. Heather is thrilled with him, and at the end, she brandishes the top of his head with kisses galore, which he grudgingly submits to.
She’s a little out of breath, but it doesn’t stop her from clicking the remote and getting our song cued up. I’m tense since I can only guess what she’s going to pick for us.
Sure enough, she does us dirty, and the first strains of an eighties power ballad love song fill up the living room. I want to wither up into prune form and disappear, but Darius is a much better sport. He offers me his hand with a sly grin on his face that promises he’s not going to let me off until all seven minutes or so of the song have been completed.
“May I have this dance, Mrs. Anderson?”
Oh god. My name might be on the new ID Darius arranged, including my Illinois driver’s license, but hearing it being used makes it real. Really real. I slip my hand into his hand because everyone is watching, and I’ve never backed down from a dance challenge before.
Darius doesn’t wrench me up against him. He’s a perfect gentleman, and he holds me at a respectable distance, which isn’t nearly far enough to stop me from instantly combusting from his closeness. His hand guides me from the small of my back, the other one holding mine. We probably look like a chaste couple, but all I can think about is how close he is, how good he smells, the heat of his body, the strength in his hands, how much taller he is than I am, my panties that he had to snatch down from the pot rack that night, his face between my legs in the kitchen…
“You guys are swoonworthy,” Heather remarks as we dance past her. “See? The DJ never steers you wrong.”
I feel my usual blush start, and it matches the fire ravaging the rest of me while Darius’ grin just gets wider. He’s so sure of himself, so easy with whatever steps he’s guiding me through. It feels good—more than good. I don’t know when I close my eyes, but at some point, I do, and I get lost in it. Darius is a great dancer, and I have to wonder what it would be like if this were real. It sure feels that way already. It feels far more than friendly, and I can’t bring myself to hate the feeling. Not one bit. I know all about the usual dangers, pitted roads, potholes, and stop signs, blah, blah, blah. But I still can’t make my chest feel like it’s not going to burst wide open.
It turns out seven-odd minutes go by really fast when you’re having the time of your life, even though you’re not supposed to be. The song ends, and we break apart. Darius bows, and because I’m feeling particularly silly, almost like I’m drunk, I blow him a kiss. Heather hoots, and my mom and Hans clap.
“Well, I should probably get the cat back upstairs. It’s getting late, so I might just stay up there,” Heather mutters, stifling a yawn. It is getting late, and the expression on her face says it’s normal bedtime and not to go off on a worry tangent.
“I’ll join you,” my mom says. “I’m ready.”
“Thank you for the lovely evening,” Hans tells us all. “I particularly enjoyed the movie.” And with a smile, he waves at my mom. “And thank you for the lovely dance.”
“Oh goodness,” Mom says with a laugh. “You’re most welcome.”
“I’m pretty tired too. I’ll come up with you,” I say, although it’s a lie because I feel like I could run ten thousand marathons and still have energy left over. I’m buzzing from the closeness of Darius’ body, and I can’t just shut it off. I know I’m probably only going to sleep approximately five point eight minutes total tonight, but I say my goodnights to Hans while looking him in the eye and then to Darius while not looking him in the eye.