The Third Best Thing (Fulton U, #3)

by Maya Hughes

you pulled back there and think I’m not going to want to see.” She tugged against my hold on her hand as we hit the top step of her porch. “You want to see me dance?” “Why the hell do you think I’m seconds away from throwing you over my shoulder?” “I don’t know.” She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose in that adorable, I’m-stalling-for-time-way. “Cause you thought it was super out-of-bounds for me to mention it and didn’t want anyone else to hear what I’d said?” She looked down at her shoes and shrugged. “Jules, if you don’t show me all your moves, I might have to use my imagination, and I don’t know if you want me doing that.” She peered up and the corner of her mouth lifted. “Maybe I do.” We rushed inside and didn’t take the standard pit stop of the kitchen. She led the way, keeping my hand in hers as she climbed the steps. Like I was going anywhere. At this point, she’d have to call the cops to get me to leave. Walking up the stairs was crossing a barrier that we’d erected between us. It was crossing an invisible line drawn across all our interactions, and doing it now I couldn’t believe I hadn’t blown through that thing ages ago. Her steps were quiet even on the creaky stairs. We stood in front of her door. She glanced at me over her shoulder and bit her bottom lip. “I’ve only ever danced for one other person.” A blaze of irrational jealousy ripped through me thinking about her dancing for some asshat. “Elle isn’t exactly going to tell me if I suck, though.” ...