“You don’t mind watching them dance?” he asked cautiously.
“Of course not.”
“It’s just that you and Alex…well, you know.”
She scrunched up her face, just a tiny bit. “What do you mean?”
“You two were always close. Reading and discussing your books together. I know how much you like him. In fact, I’m surprised you didn’t ask him for help.”
She took a step back. That was two people questioning her decision, and she really didn’t have a good answer for them—at least, not one she wanted to share. “I just…didn’t think of him.”
“Oh.” Tristan’s face fell.
“I don’t think of him like that,” she amended because she felt like she’d somehow disappointed Tristan without meaning to.
“Oh?”
“No. I just…um…I can’t really imagine him convincing people he was in love with me.” And there was a whole lot packed into that statement she realized. How would he take that?
“Fair. The man is a bit of a closed book.”
“I’ll say. For as much as he likes to read, he’s impossibletoread.”
“You two always used to laze about reading together. Violet and I rarely jumped in on your book discussion, except perhaps to annoy you or convince you both to engage in a new activity. People always thought you two would end up together.”
Iris laughed. “Perhaps we might have if all I ever wanted in life was to read and then talk about what I just read. I mean, that doesn’t sound half bad. But I wanted something more.”
“What did you want?”
She wanted to avert her eyes, back slowly away from the question, but she couldn’t. There was a deeper part of her that wanted Tristan to know more of her heart, even if she still couldn’t share it all. Couldn’t risk the friendship. Couldn’t risk the stability of their relationship.
But she had to tell him something. Some part of the truth.
“I wanted the butterflies.”
He paused for a beat, and just when she thought he was going to change the subject, he added, “The sweaty palms?”
She nodded, eyes locked on his. “The feet rooted to the spot.”
“The swimming head?”
“The starry eyes.”
Was it her imagination or did he pull her closer? She could feel the heat emanating from his body, and the charged air between them.
“The heart beating out of your chest?”
“The body heat.”
Tristan cleared his throat. They had stopped dancing, and now he was just holding her. “Say ow,” he hissed at her.
“What?”
“Say ow,” and he pinched her, causing her to let out a small shriek.
Her eyebrows squeezed together. Well, that was one way to end the moment—
WHOOSH!