Neanderthal by Avery Flynn

Chapter Nineteen

Griff

A half hour later at a hole-in-the-wall dance studio and Griff knew one absolute truth—Kinsey hadn’t been lying. Grandma Betty’s attack goose Maurice had more dancing skills than his fake date.

Their dance instructor had tried her best, breaking down the thirty-second TikTok dance into individual steps. Kinsey had each one of those, but putting them together? The woman froze and seemed to forget which was her right and which was her left.

It shouldn’t have made him love her a little bit more.

It did anyway.

He was so fucked.

“I’m so sorry; it’s not you, it’s me,” Kinsey said to their instructor, who looked like she was ready to hit the nearest bar. “I’m just not made for dancing.”

It wasn’t that—it was just that her brain moved faster than her feet. Knowing Kinsey, she was probably working out the final step combinations in her head while her feet were trying to carry out the opening move. There was only one option to cut through all of it.

“Can I try something?” he asked, scrubbing the back of his neck with his hands, trying to figure out what in the hell he was thinking because this was not going to get him any closer to his end goal of falling out of love with Kinsey.

The dance instructor let out a relieved sigh, obviously ready to give anything a shot at this point. “Sure.”

He glanced over at Kinsey and raised an eyebrow in question. She nodded, lifting her chin and straightening her shoulders as if he was going to go drill sergeant on her and yell her into dance submission. Instead, he stepped into Kinsey’s dance space.

They locked gazes and, even with the same thirty-second music clip playing on repeat in the background, all Griff could hear was the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears. This had to be the most foolish thing he’d ever done in his life, but there wasn’t a damn thing that would stop him—not even knowing better.

He took her right hand in his, lifting it so they were holding hands at shoulder height. Clamping his jaw tight and keeping his gaze firmly planted on the wall just over her shoulder, he pushed past the awareness building at touching her, the sizzle and spark that shot straight to his balls. Then he reached around her and let his other hand rest lightly against the middle of her back.

She sucked in a sharp intake of breath, and for one brief balls-in-a-vise-grip moment, Griff thought he’d hurt her or fucked it all up. He jerked his attention to her, an apology already on the tip of his tongue. It never made it past his lips.

Kinsey, her cheeks flushed, was looking up at him, her pupils dilated with desire and her soft pink lips parted as if in anticipation for the kiss he was desperate to give her.

If she was single.

If he had a shot.

If he wasn’t the single biggest fool on the face of the planet for falling like a Sub-Zero fridge over the edge of a cliff the first moment he heard her brain at work.

“So,” he said, grinding out the single word without unclenching his jaw, desperate to hold on to the little bit of dignity and self-respect he had left—the effort of which turned his tone hard and mean. “The waltz is just a box step with turns.”

She didn’t even flinch at his harshness, just bit down on her plump bottom lip and cut her gaze to the floor. “I don’t know—”

“Look at me,” he interrupted.

She did, tilting her chin up and looking at him with wide, wary eyes.

“I got you.”

And right at that moment, as the music looped back to the beginning of the clip, he started the waltz. He went forward with his left foot and she went back with her right. Then he went right and she stayed with him as they continued the box step. They continued several more times along with the song that had become one of the most popular TikTok dance challenges before he felt her relax in his arms.

“Get ready,” he whispered, his mouth close enough to her ear that his lips nearly brushed against her soft skin. “We’re gonna turn.”

Before she could freeze up or he gave in to the heat and kissed her right there in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, he swung her around. He repeated it again and again as they rounded the small dance floor. Then, just as the song was ending, he dipped her and she went with it, bending back until he brought her up again, holding her so she was pressed against him. Their faces were so close, all he had to do was dip his head lower and kiss her.

There was nothing in the world he wanted more.

There was nothing in the world he could have less.

He dropped his hands abruptly and stepped back, flexing his fingers to try to ease the ache of not touching her anymore, ice the burn of wanting nothing else but the one woman he couldn’t have. Frustration and desire slamming against him, banging him up with more force than Mac’s fists in the ring, he dragged his attention away from Kinsey over to their dance instructor.

“We danced,” he said, snarl dialed up to a hundred. “Is the date over now?”

Wide-eyed, the instructor nodded.

Great. He’d never been more fucking glad in his life to get exactly what he didn’t want.