“You’re not as bad as everyone makes you out to be, you know that?” Julia finally announces, looking back at me with clear eyes this time. Like she flipped a switch from vulnerable to tough as nails in one go.

I bark out a laugh before deadpanning, “Please, Jules. I can’t have you running around ruining my reputation.”

She chuckles and gives her nose a quick wipe, shaking her head in disbelief. A series of whoops rings out around us as “Cadillac Ranch” blares through the speakers. Julia perks up as she watches other patrons flood the small dance floor.

“Would line dancing with your rival’s Goody Two-shoes little sister ruin your reputation?”

I take a sip of my bourbon and Coke, regarding her as the sugary drink slips down my throat. Goody Two-shoes? That’s not how I see her at all.

Trouble. Temptation. Tranquility.

Something about her soothes the restlessness inside of me. My eyes track the dark strands that lie flush against her cheek.

Yeah, I’d ruin my reputation several times over for this girl.

Which isn’t something I’ve ever felt before. It makes me want to duck and run. Tell her not to get her hopes up.

But I don’t. I can’t.

Instead, I push to stand and extend my hand to her. “Yeah, but I’ll take my chances.”

She grins and slips her hand into mine without a second thought. I lead her onto the dance floor where we both fall into step.

Her black boots next to my brown ones. Her hips swaying. Her infectious smile.

She’s blinding. And dancing with her—even with this space between us—is… fun.

When the song ends, she lays a hand over her chest to catch her breath and spins away, taking in the room around her with such awe. It’s like she’s never been to a dive bar before.

I have to step away and take a break from gawking at her. Which is why I spot the guy coming from a mile away.

“May I?” he asks me, like I have a say in what he’s about to do.

I nudge my chin in Julia’s direction. “Ask her. I’m not in charge here.”

She turns at the sound of my voice, her eyes giving the guy a wary look.

“Saw you from across the bar and wondered if you wanted to dance?”

He asks her with a mix of politeness and nervousness. There’s nothing objectively wrong with the guy. He looks like he’s about her age, clean-cut—too clean-cut. Maybe it’s the baggy jeans and white sneakers. Maybe he’s too polite. I can’t put my finger on why, but I decide I don’t like the guy.

From a brotherly perspective, that is. Parker would ice him out. Riley would eat him alive.

But Julia gives him an equally polite smile and says, “Sure,” right as the music changes and Shania Twain’s voice rings out through the bar.

I offer them both a nod and back away, my leaden feet dragging me toward a pillar beside the dance floor. With my shoulder braced against it, I cross my arms and watch Julia get spun around on the dance floor by some dopey-looking college bro.

The only reprieve I give myself from standing guard over her is to order another drink from our server when she passes by. When she returns with it, I sip at it, almost aggressively as I wait for this song to be over.

Who knew that “Any Man of Mine” was so painfully long.

Not me, that’s for fucking sure.

His hand on her waist. Their lips moving in friendly conversation. The poor guy has hearts in his eyes.

And who could blame him? She has that effect.

I shift my weight from foot to foot, antsy just having to stay away from her. I don’t know what this feeling is, but I don’t like it.

The moment the final note hits, I push off the chipped pillar and make a beeline for the girl in the red dress.

“Time’s up,” I grumble rudely before cutting in. There’s no may I or do you mind if.

I just take.

He steps back, looking alarmed by my abrupt arrival, but it’s clear he’s waiting for a dismissal from her, not just me.

But Julia steps closer to me. She reaches for me, her hand circling the underside of my forearm. “Thank you for the dance. Hope you have fun tonight,” she says before turning her attention back my way.

The first few notes of a slow song waft through the speakers, and she quirks a dark brow up at me.

“What?” I grump, reaching for her waist and drawing her in as I sway.

Her body rumbles with a knowing chuckle as she reaches up, hooking one arm behind my neck as she falls into step.

Then she throws me for a loop when she pulls my hand with the bourbon and Coke toward her. Dainty fingers folded over mine, she lifts the straw and takes a long sip, holding my gaze the entire time.

Her lips on that straw. Dark eyes homed in on mine. My brain fucking spirals.

“What happened to not drinking?”

She lifts one slender shoulder, the thin red strap pulling up over her elegant collarbone, before she really takes my breath away by simply stating, “Felt safe. Felt thirsty.”

Safe.

With me?

I blink a few times, wondering if I’m interpreting her casual comment correctly.

I twirl her out, then draw her back toward me, slipping her arm up over the back of my neck as my hand trails over her skin.

She smirks up at me, unaware of how caught off guard I am by her. By my own reaction to her.

“Pulling out all the stops on the dance floor, huh? What happened to you not being in charge?” Her tone is teasing as she straightens and slips her other arm over my shoulder.

“I lied.”

“Is that so?” She shakes her head, a teasing smile curving her lips. “James was such a sweet guy compared to you.”

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A thrill courses through me. I secretly love when she taunts me. “James, huh?” I lean in closer, my lips almost brushing against the shell of her ear. “Too bad he doesn’t realize a sweet guy would bore you to tears.”

I swear she shivers, a sharp breath slipping past her lips, though she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she turns her head toward me, her mouth mere inches from mine.

“I guess I’ll find out when I take Riley up on the blind date she offered to set up for me. She described him as a sweet guy, too.”

My heart thunders in my ears as she steals another sip of my drink. We dance for another song. And then another. We move comfortably together, taking in our surroundings but never drifting away from each other even as one song bleeds into the next.

Not talking, just being. Well, actually, my brain is stuck on the word sweet. I’m basically stewing over it.

Finally, after a fourth song, I blurt, “Is sweet what you’re after?”

“What?” She blinks, confused by my random question after being silent for so long.

“In a guy.”

“Oh. Well…” She bites down on her bottom lip as she considers. “Haven’t been out with a guy in over two years, so it’s hard to say for sure what I like nowadays.”

Alarm bells ring in my head as I draw back ever so slightly. I know exactly what that timeline means.

Yet, she’s here. With me. Taking sips of my drink, fingers toying with the hair at the back of my neck.

“What do you call this then?” I ask, sounding more desperate than I intended.

She swallows. “Work.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

I tilt my head, regarding her as I slowly turn us in a circle. I shoot straight. “Why, if you haven’t been out with a guy or had a drink at a bar in over two years, are you here doing both those things with me?”

I drop my mouth close to hers, considering throwing caution to the wind and kissing her. Swallowing whatever smartass joke she’s no doubt about to launch.

But she meets my offense and steps closer, hips bumping against mine, face tipping up to hold my gaze. “Because that night terrified me.” Her voice comes out as a whisper, but I listen raptly, catching every word of her confession. “Now, every time I meet a man, I wonder, ‘What would you do to me if you knew I’d never remember?’ I’ve accepted it’s impossible to know the answer, so I have to be willing to take that leap of faith. I guess I’m still working up the courage.”