The Bookworm's Guide to Faking It (The Bookworm's Guide 2)

Another two couples I recognized as Spencer’s siblings and their partners joined the floor, and Sebastian’s words clicked into place.

“Ohhhh no,” I breathed. “I don’t dance.”

With his lips curved up into a half-smile, he took my glass from me and put it on the table, then took both of my hands in his. “You do with me.”

“I can assure you that I do—ahh!”

He pulled me up to my feet, releasing one of my hands while tightening his grip on the other so I had no chance of escaping.

Did I really want to?

The question flitted through my mind like a whisper, but I had no chance to linger on it because we reached the dancefloor and Seb swept me into his arms like a pro.

My body was pressed right up against his. The buckle on his belt dug into my stomach ever so slightly, and his white shirt was soft against my hand as I slipped my arm around his waist.

A slow dance.

I could manage this.

Cha Cha Slide? Yes. The Macarena? Nailed it. The floss?

No. Nobody over the age of ten could do the floss, and if you could, how? Teach me!

To be honest, I wasn’t sure I’d done the Macarena or the Cha Cha Slide for years, either.

Seb rested his hand at my hip and held the other to the side, dipping his head into mine as our bodies swayed to the slow music. “See? This isn’t so bad, is it?”

I squeaked in response.

I really, really didn’t dance.

He laughed silently, pulling my body even closer to his.

It was nice.

Too nice.

Part of me wanted to stay here, to be wrapped up in him, and the rest of me wanted to run away and hide in a bathroom somewhere where I wouldn’t have to address the fact that being so close to Seb was driving me insane.

With no justification for my anger, I was like a ship in a storm.

Completely lost at sea, going with the motions, praying for a break in the cloud so everything would make sense again.

God, I needed to go home and clear my head.

He was just so handsome and fun and comfortable and a total pain in my ass.

It was everything I wanted in a man, honestly.

It just sucked that he was Sebastian.

“Look at you, pretending like you want to be here,” he murmured in my ear. “You almost look like you’re enjoying it.”

“I’m imagining murdering you,” I whispered back, tilting my head so my mouth brushed his earlobe. “It’s not very taxing and more than a little enjoyable.”

“Do I need to call someone about your murderous tendencies? Are the FBI aware of this?”

“Probably. I’m pretty sure I’m on a watch list from my Netflix history alone. Thank God they don’t know which books I sneak from the storeroom when I’m burned out on romance.”

“Burned out on romance? What is that?”

I smiled and leaned back so I could meet his eyes. “It’s when I’m tired of idiots getting their happily ever afters and would rather read about idiots who murder people instead.”

“I don’t really know how to respond to that.”

“You don’t need to,” I said breezily. “You just need to know that it’ll hurt more if you scream.”

“You’re scarier than I remember.”

“Excellent. That’s what I was going for.”

He laughed just as the song ended. I made to pull away, but another, more upbeat song came on, and Seb grinned as he tugged me back into him.

I groaned. I really, really didn’t want to dance anymore. I’d given in for the slow dance because it was little more than glorified swaying, but actually dancing…?

No.

There was no way it was happening.

“Nuh-uh,” I said, desperately trying to pull away from Seb.

“Come on. One more song,” he said over the sound of the music.

“Noooooo.” It was the most pathetic sound ever, and we both knew I was going to give in.

Mostly because he was bigger and stronger than me and I really didn’t want to cause a scene.

Seb dropped his jaw and offered me an open-mouthed smile, then wiggled his hips like he was some kind of male Shakira. He looked completely ridiculous, especially when he did jazz fingers with his one free hand.

“You look so stupid!”

He dropped his head and laughed, then used his good arm to force me into a spin that I groaned my whole way through. By the time he’d pulled me back into him, my heart was thumping furiously against my ribs.

My body was pressed firmly against his, and my lips parted as I drew in a deep breath. Every part of me tingled as time seemed to stop as our bodies came together like they were made to be this way.

The pause lasted for all of a second before Seb grabbed my other hand and started dancing.

If you could call it dancing.

It was halfway between watching Dancing With the Stars and watching your dad do the macarena while half-drunk at the latest family reunion.