“Nothing.” I shook my head, and Shaw stepped away.

“You go sit down,” Danny said. “You really don’t look great. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“It’s fine. I’m good.” I smiled at him, plucked a pot holder from the counter, and went to the oven. I’d made roast and potatoes and a salad.

A few minutes later, the three of us were sitting at the table. I was probably quieter than I should have been, Danny too. Shaw did well, asking questions and keeping the conversation going. It was exasperatingly unfair that he was so good at this. I had a feeling he was the kind of guy who was good at everything.

He also seemed to remember every detail I’d mentioned at dinner Saturday night. He asked about my family and spoke about their jobs and told me about a new true-crime documentary on Netflix he thought I would like. It felt so real, I had to remind myself it was a scheme. That Shaw had only filed away all that information to use it for making Danny believe there was something between us.

We were almost through with dinner when Shaw said, “So…I know it’s not ballet, but I saw an ad for ballroom-dancing classes. If you don’t mind someone who has no clue what he’s doing, I thought maybe we could look into trying a class, just for fun.”

My heart thudded against my chest as my eyes snagged on his. “You want to take a dance class with me?” fell out of my mouth without any direction from my brain, as Danny asked, “You’re thinking of dancing again?”

Shaw said, “Yeah, it could be fun. I’m always up for trying something new.”

It’s not real. He’s playing a game. He’s doing this to help me make Danny jealous. I shouldn’t have needed a reminder of that, and yet for some reason, I did. I had no idea why something so simple hit me with nearly enough strength to steal my breath.

“I…yeah…we can try it,” I told him, before remembering Danny had spoken to me. “It wasn’t something I planned. Dance came up the other night.”

Danny nodded, but I thought he could see how much what Shaw had offered meant to me. He frowned slightly, a hint of guilt reflecting back to me in his midnight eyes. “I would have taken a dance class with you if you wanted, Eli. You know that.”

Yeah, I did. “I know. It really just came up.” But it would be fun. Not that it was something Shaw truly intended to do with me, and hell, I danced every time we went to a club. I didn’t know why this felt so different.

Things were quieter after that. We finished dinner, and as we put our plates in the kitchen, Shaw pulled out his phone. “Shit. Will texted. He needs me to help him with something. I hate to cut out early.”

Unexpected disappointment hit me in the chest. “No, it’s fine. I get it.”

“Thanks for coming. It was good to see you,” Danny told him, but it didn’t sound good at all.

“I’m going to walk Shaw to his apartment,” I told my best friend, feeling the need to…I didn’t know what. Thank him? Spend another minute with him?

“It’s okay.” Shaw nodded at me, but I found myself following him to the door anyway.

I froze when he leaned in. Oh my God. Was he going to kiss me? I closed my eyes, not sure why, but then Shaw just hugged me, his mouth close to my ear again. “Have fun,” he whispered.

When he pulled away, he winked at me, then walked out the door.

I turned around to find Danny leaning against the kitchen counter. “You really like that guy, don’t you?” he asked softly.

“What? No!” I rushed out before remembering I was supposed to pretend there was something between us. “We’re just hanging out,” I added, the discomfort at our lie already swelling inside me.

“You guys are different from each other, Eli. I see him around a lot with men and women. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Fire lit up my spine, going the length of it before settling in my neck. “I’m not going to get hurt. I can take care of myself.” But I did appreciate that he cared, and wondered if it was only a friend thing or if maybe it could be more. “We’re just friends,” I admitted.

“Okay.” He nodded. “I believe you. And you know I think it’s great if you dance again, don’t you?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good.” Danny pointed toward the couch. “I feel like an ass for bailing on you last time. I’ll make it up to you. You choose what we watch tonight, and I won’t take off on you again.”

“You better not,” I replied, trying to find that familiar comfort we’d always had.

Tags: Riley Hart Stumbling into Love Romance
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