Only Yours

30. Strangely Accurate

Tamina

And the Pineapple and cheese cubes are all gone.

A small sigh comes from me, but the pink bubbly is enough to keep my mood on point. I'm not entirely sure how much time has passed since I'd left Brandon to occupy myself here, but it's been long enough to know I feel like the lonely kid in the canteen. No one's asked me to dance, and I'd rather that than offer and be rejected each time, not that I'd be comfortable asking a stranger for a dance. The women here huddle together and give side eyes as if to say, "Come here and we will eat you." So, I'm keeping put until the night ends.

Dropping my head, a small curse falls from my lips at the remembrance of leaving my glass in the bathroom.

I mean, it should be OK, I'm sure lots of people accidentally do it if they're drunk—

"Care for a dance?"

My brows shoot up only to rapidly pinch together as I pivot to face the owner of the voice, the man behind the whole ordeal.

"And why would I do that?" I sass, crossing my arms.

He chuckles and copies my stance, only he's taller and more intimidating. And I hate to admit it, but the action has my eyes fleeting to his well fitted dress shirt that's buttoned all the way other than the top two that show off his collar bones. Raising them again, I'm confronted with those devilish blue eyes.

"Like I said before, you want to know what I'm planning. If you want to know, you'll dance with me."

My teeth sink into my lower lip as I stare at his extended hand, and the looks we're getting is making me uncomfortable. Although, a dance is nothing compared to what he wanted to do last time, and maybe I'll be able to persuade him into spilling what he knows in the meantime.

With displeasure, my hand slips into his, and it's soft like I remember but it curls firmly around mine to make sure I don't try to make an escape. His lips pull up into a grin that manages to catch the light, and it renders me speechless for a moment before I'm assuming the position for a dance. Lucius doesn't waste time to find my waist, and it's strange at how his hand feels as if it fits against my body. Swallowing back my nerves, one hand takes his shoulder and my other remains in his before he starts the first step.

"Tell me, how do you find the dress? I'm hoping the measurements were to a T, if not, I'll make sure to take closer precautions," he muses, and the stroke of his thumb doesn't go unnoticed.

"Strangely accurate, did you try it on?" I fire.

He laughs, and it sounds natural. . . or, at least, I think it is. Either way, I can feel the vibration of it in my skin, and I'm not entirely sure if it should make me want to pull away or feel a little at ease that he's not in a make me kiss him mood.

"I think it's more your style than mine, sweetheart." Lucius' eyes trail over my face, never dipping any lower than my chin, and I'm still deciding if that's more embarrassing or not as he says, "You look absolutely stunning, tiger. Is it weird I'm honoured you picked it?"

"Weird you said so, yes. But thank you, I must admit I thought your words were courageous and inspirational," I whisper, embarrassed I said it out loud.

His arm pulls me closer, and my body instinctively panics and tries to pull away, but he doesn't let me. The grip tightens, and his mouth is by my ear as he gives a warning for me to not make a scene. Doing as he says, I try to make my body comply, and when it does, he loosens up.

"But?" he queries, softly pulling me closer again for the twirl.

"But it makes me curious as to why you don't heed your own words."