Page 17 of A Little Crush (The Little Things #6)
“You look cute holding a baby,” Dodger adds, pinning me with a knowing look there’s no way Jaxon buys. “Any chance you wanna pass her off to her dad so we can sneak in a dance before the toasts start?”
With a slow nod, I hand Jaxon his daughter. He takes her without hesitation.
“Thanks again for keeping an eye on her,” he says.
“Anytime.” Poppy reaches for the hanky on the table, but I stop her from putting it in her mouth. “Trust me, Pops. You don’t want to taste that.” Keeping it fisted in my hand, I pause and glance at Jax. “Do you want to take it, or I can wash it and give it back later or?—”
“Keep it,” he insists.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure he doesn’t mind,” Dodger interrupts.
He stands and offers his tatted hand, waiting for me to take it.
Once I do, he tugs me to my feet, leads me to the dance floor, and spins me into his chest like a seasoned dancing professional.
To be fair, I wouldn’t put it past him. With all the crazy things he’s done in his life, learning how to dance is pretty believable.
Laughing, I say, “My hero.”
“Professional cock blocker at your service,” he quips while slowly swaying us from side to side.
“Is that what you’re doing?” I challenge. “Cock blocking for me? ‘Cause I thought we were dancing.”
“Don’t act like you don’t know I just interrupted your little swoon fest over there. ”
I roll my eyes, refusing to look at the table in question. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Let’s say you don’t,” he decides. “Because you might honestly be as innocent as most give you credit for.”
My lips purse. “Gee, thanks.”
“Nothing wrong with it,” he argues. “But let’s say it’s true, and you really haven’t noticed the way he looks at you.” He dips me over his arm, then pulls me back to a standing position, stealing the air from my lungs. “I have.”
“Seems you don’t know what you’re talking about, either,” I mutter.
“Nah.” He chuckles. “I’m much less innocent than you are, Squeaks. I know what want looks like.”
Want? As in Jax wants me? The idea is laughable at best, yet crippling in general.
With a slow shake of my head, I mutter, “He doesn’t want me.”
“Maybe not consciously,” Dodger concedes. “Not yet. But I wouldn’t write him off, either.”
The urge to sneak a glance at a certain someone with his daughter is strong, but I fight it and lift my chin a little higher, refusing to give in. “I think you’re being ridiculous, Dodger Anders.”
With a flick of his wrist, Dodger spins me around again, then pulls me into him. “And I think you underestimate your feminine wiles, Rory Buchanan.”
Feminine wiles, my ass.
If I had feminine wiles, I wouldn’t be a virgin.
I wouldn’t be a crazy dog lady. And I sure as hell wouldn’t be hung up on my childhood crush even after all these years.
But instead of arguing with him, knowing it’ll get me nowhere, I tear my attention from the top button on Dodger’s dress shirt and let him lead me across the dance floor.
He’s a good dancer. Confident. Sexy .
“Speaking of wiles,” I murmur. “You never told me your reason for leaving Lockwood Heights.”
His brow quirks. “Didn’t I?”
“Nope.”
“Then it looks like I wanna keep it that way,” he quips, spinning me around once more.
I could fight him. I could pick. But I won’t. Besides, we all have our secrets. Or at least most of us do. And if someone’s lucky enough to keep theirs hidden from the world, who am I to reveal it out of jealousy?
Swaying to the slow, seductive beat, I peek at Jax, finding his gaze on me as he cradles a sleeping Poppy to his chest.
And it’s strange. How a simple look has the power to knock me on my ass, and if Dodger’s arms weren’t wrapped around me, I might very well end up on the floor.
“Yeah, he’s definitely jealous,” Dodger muses.
My attention snaps back to my dance partner. “And I think you’re too buzzed to make such an assumption.”
“Never too buzzed to make an assumption. Especially a bad one.” He winks. “But I’m not that buzzed, Rore, and this isn’t a bad assumption. Even drunk Dodger can see the way he looks at you.” His smirk widens. “Like he wants a taste.”
“But only subconsciously.”
“Don’t knock our masculine urges, Rore. They’re a powerful beast.”
“And so is the alcohol coursing through your system,” I argue.
Bending closer, he brushes his lips against the shell of my ear. “And so is the want coursing through your boy’s over there.”
I lean away from him, giving him the side-eye. “Careful, or you’ll make our parents believe you’re actually interested in me. ”
“Isn’t that the point?” he asks. “I’m your plus-one and fake boyfriend until you decide to pull the plug on this.”
The reminder doesn’t exactly leave me with any warm fuzzies.
I’m not a liar. Not usually. The thought alone is nearly enough to cause me to break out in hives—add it to the list-—but the thought of Jaxon assuming I’ve never moved past him, even if it is true, is enough to make my cheeks rival the color of a damn lobster.
But so is the possibility that Dodger’s assumptions aren’t completely off-base, and I don’t know how I feel about it.