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He stills us on the dance floor, feet no longer moving. His ocean eyes track every inch of my face, lingering on my lips. “There is better out there, and if anyone deserves to get everything they want in life, it’s you.”
“You deserve to have your dreams come true too.”
“I don’t dream, Indy. I plan, and my life is going according to that plan. I have the career. It’s what I always wanted.”
His eyes can’t connect with mine as he says the words because I’m not sure even Ryan finds them true. I see the toll the sky-high expectations take on him. He might still love the game, but the pressure to be perfect weighs on him, stealing a bit more of him every day. He’s confined to the walls of the apartment unless he’s prepared to be scrutinized and idolized at the same time. He lives in a million-dollar prison on the twenty-second floor. I can’t imagine he wished for that part of his career.
Ryan pushes me out in an elegant spin, disconnecting our moment before I can pry any further. He’s surprisingly graceful on the dance floor, and for a man who hasn’t held a woman in years, he has no issues leading me here.
“I can say we’ve crossed this one off your bucket list. I’m sure we can pull off a dance or two at the wedding.”
A soft smile runs across his lips.
The DJ shifts into the next song, which keeps the same slow and sultry vibe. “We should maybe practice a little more. Don’t you think?”
I love this type of practice. All of it. The dancing. The living together. The fake relationship. “Yeah. Practice is good.”
We move around the dance floor, our hands intertwined and held out to the side, our cheeks pressed together, suffocating but comforting. Once again, I spot my best friend on the other side of the room, radiating with so much happiness.
“Do you think they’ll have kids? Zanders and Stevie?”
“I’m not sure,” Ryan admits. “Stevie never talked much about kids. I was the sibling who always wanted them. My sister was too busy saving every stray animal she could find.” He chuckles lightly. “But I think they might. Zee wants them.”
I don’t miss the sentence he threw in nonchalantly. I was the sibling who always wanted them. Layer by layer, Ryan lets me see a bit more of him, as more of his confusing backstory pushes forward, eager to come to light. I want to see it. I want to know everything, but I don’t want to scare him off either, so I stay silent.
He eyes me cautiously, as if for the first time realizing he’s walking through a minefield talking about marriage and babies with a woman who might not get either but wants nothing more.
Thankfully, the music shifts, filling the room with a beat you can’t help but dance to.
Ryan peels off his jacket, tossing it on the back of a nearby chair before rolling up the sleeves of his white button-down shirt. It’s decided at that moment, with the veins running down his forearms and the watch on his wrist, that it’s just about the sexiest thing a man can do.
“Enough talk.” He taps my ass, steering me to the center of the dance floor. “Come on, girl. Let’s have fun.”
Countless songs in and I’m a sweaty mess. We all are. Most of Zanders and Stevie’s teammates and friends haven’t left the dance floor, and the DJ finally caught on to the fact that all we want to hear is ass-grinding music.
My shoes have been long discarded, and I hope I find them again. They were cute. Expensive too.
The dance floor in general is a chaotic mess of music, sweat, and grinding bodies. This once black-tie affair has quickly turned into a personal nightclub of overdressed guests.
Even through the madness, I track where Ryan is, whether that’s on the outskirts sharing a drink with his dad or taking a quick step outside for air. He only lasted two songs before he took off and call me needy, but I want him out here again.
“Dance with me, Indigo!” Rio grabs me, slinging my arms over his shoulders, keeping his hands at a respectful height on my back.
Our hips move together, but it’s completely platonic. There’s enough distance between us to make that clear.
Through the dim lighting, loud music, and over Rio’s shoulder, I find Ryan watching me from the edge of the dance floor. Drink in one hand, the other in his pocket. The last time he caught me dancing with Rio was at the fall banquet. This time, even though I can see the heat flaming in his eyes, it’s matched by a self-assured stance.
He watches me with suffocating intensity, bringing the rim of his glass to his lips, and even as I move with Rio, I keep my attention locked on him.
Are we still pretending? I’d love to know.
His gaze rakes my body, slow and sweeping, not missing an inch and all I want to do is tempt my jealous fake boyfriend enough to get him out here. So, I do it. Turning around, I put my back to Rio’s front, swaying my hips to the beat, all while keeping my eyes locked on Ryan.
“Just so you know,” Rio says into my ear, loud enough to hear over the music. “I’m well aware you’re using me to make him jealous and I’m perfectly okay with that.”
I chuckle. “I was hoping you would be.”
“Fuck it.” Rio grabs my waist, pulling me into him. “But if he hits me for this, he better at least give me an autograph too.”
