Page 115 of If It's You

He caught her foot in his hand and rested it on his lap. She should have pulled it away, but she couldn’t move even if she wanted to.

“I like your socks,” he said as he began massaging the arch of her foot.

Her heart thudded against her ribcage, aching to be closer to him.

“They’re cozy.” She tried to pull her fuzzy socks away from him, but he held on and kept kneading her foot. She’d spent nearly two hours dancing yesterday, and it had taken a toll on her body. This was pure heaven.

The characters on the screen kissed, and Christian’s fingers paused momentarily. Then he picked up her other foot and massaged that one as well.

Maizie’s breath raced as rapidly as her heart.

“Okay, we are totally trying that move,” Christian said. Maizie hadn’t been watching. He could be referring to any move, and she was already convinced.

Her stomach clenched, squeezing the life out of her. She groaned and pulled her legs away from him, squeezing them tightly around the heating pad.

“Sorry.” Christian looked at her in concern.

“No. It’s just the cramps. It feels better when I lie this way,” she explained.

His face relaxed, and he leaned deeper into the couch.

After another ten minutes, her neck was stiff so she sat up on the couch, bending over her knees to stop the pain. She didn’t realize Christian had scooted closer until his hand was on her back, softly tickling little circles up her spine. The fire his touch caused quenched the pain in her stomach.

Who knew this was the real cure for cramps?

With each stroke down her back, she grew more and more relaxed. The pain had finally been suppressed, and her body felt weak. Each breath brought her closer and closer to him until her head landed on his leg. His fingers worked their magic, and before she knew it, she was asleep.

* * *

A soft snoreescaped Maizie’s lips. The movie had been over for a while, but Christian couldn’t convince himself to leave. It had taken all his restraint to not kiss her tonight—just once, to prove his feelings for her. But he could be patient. He didn’t want to push her away again.

She shifted on his leg, and he held his breath. He could take her in his arms and carry her to bed, but she finally looked at peace, and he didn’t want to disturb her.

He slid out from under her, laying her head on a throw pillow and then covering her with a throw blanket. He planted a soft kiss on her head before he left.

Jayce had made fun of him for driving two hours tonight to get Maizie a stuffed animal, but the way her eyes had clouded over when he’d told her what it was had been worth every second. He’d realized two things when he’d met Maizie this summer. One, she was a handful. A wild, gorgeous handful. And two, he would do anything for her.

He should pull back. After all, he was headed back home at the end of the summer, but he couldn’t bear to think of a future without her. So he repressed those thoughts and let Maizie tumble through his mind instead.

He’d never felt this strongly for anyone. For eight months he’d thought he loved Caroline. But he hadn’t. He’d never been able to fully be himself with Caroline, so they had never truly known each other.

He’d only known Maizie for almost three months, but he ached to take her in his arms every time she was near, and ease any burden she would ever experience. Maizie was real. She was headstrong and confident. She’d been through hell losing her brother, but it had only made her tougher. She was as different as the dancing she did. From carefree and vulnerable to hard-hitting and powerful, he loved each version of her.

If he could just let himself be happy for once, maybe she’d fall for him too.

He drove back to Grandma’s house with only the moonlight to guide him. He was way past falling for her—he was there.

Twenty-Eight

Maizie yawned as she cracked open the door to her barn. It was six in the morning, but she couldn’t sleep. She needed to move. She needed to feel. Rain, shine, or cramps, dance was always the solution.

Last night had almost been her undoing. Christian had completely taken her off guard. The stuff he’d brought her, the things he’d done for her while she was in pain. It was more than anyone, besides her family, had ever done for her.

She was supposed to be mad at him, though for the life of her she couldn’t remember why.

She turned on her music and began to stretch and sway, loosening the pain burrowed deep in her muscles. The music started slow, and she followed its cadence until her feet pounded against the floor and she thrashed her body around like a madwoman. Sometimes, before she performed on stage, she would run through her dance in the worst possible way. From there, she had nowhere to go but up.

Which way was up right now? Was being with Christian the mistake before the real show, or was he the final act?