CHAPTER 3
Shawn had never had a stranger lunch in recent memory.
She was with Ryan, who was chatting away like there was no tomorrow, and she knew she should be basking in the great California sunshine, laughing and having fun with the guy she believed loved her – but she was definitely not doing anything of the sort. Her brain was slow and uncoordinated, her thoughts coming in as an incoherent jumble, and there was nothing remotely interesting in the food she'd blindly allowed Ryan to order for her.
In the silence that followed, they simply stared at each other, breathing hard. Derek reached out, tentatively, to trace her lips with a trembling finger …
"Derek," she had whispered.
She could swear she could still taste the salt of his skin, calloused and roughened by the rigors of dancing as it was. Was there such a thing? How could memory be so sharp as to remember taste, smell, sound – even when they weren't there?
They had gotten to the middle of the room without realizing it, and, propelled by the music, Shawn spun away from Derek.
Immediately she felt cold, bereft – and all the while the music swelled around her, catching her, cradling her in her moment of emptiness. But the music was not enough – nothing was ever going to be enough, not after she had known the comfort and warmth of his arms …
She turned around, and, as if pulled by the force of her longing, he was back, encircling her, protecting her, cherishing her … and then his lips were on her neck, the contact so unfamiliar yet so intimate that she was unprepared for the heady rush of emotions that rocketed through her, shattering her and yet filling her, all at the same time …
Shawn shivered, goose bumps appearing all over her arms. Ryan continued to eat his burger, completely oblivious to Shawn's abstracted gaze.
"Derek," she had whispered.
And the blue that were his eyes darkened, forming pools that she all but drowned in. Almost against her will, she closed her eyes, afraid that if she didn't, she would be lost – lost, never to be found …
What would have happened if Ryan never came in, just at that moment? Shawn didn't want to think of that right now, really. She had looked back at Derek, and the look on his face was one of such horror that she could not bear to see it. Did he regret anything? Did she imagine the moment they had shared? He was, after all, a gifted dancer and artist; perhaps he got into such emotions all the time they were nothing new. But for her – a naïve girl from Iowa – they were all so, so new.
And they were so, so real.
Shawn closed her eyes. What should she do now? She didn't know if she could face Derek again after she had laid her heart out for him to see, only to be closed off. There was still the finale to do, the freestyle to finish, the last push for the trophy … she willed herself to make longer and longer lists, higher and higher goals: an old trick she used to do whenever she was nervous before a competition. Usually it worked, but for some reason, this one defied all tricks – the memory of their last dance, of the most erotic touch she had ever known – eclipsed all else.
In the silence that followed, they simply stared at each other, breathing hard. Derek reached out, tentatively, to trace her lips with a trembling finger …
"Derek," she had whispered.
"Yeah, and here he is again," she heard Ryan say suddenly.
Shawn gave a start, not knowing that she had said Derek's name out loud, and opened her eyes. True enough, there he was again – striding down the road, his brow furrowed, and he was – God help her – he was making a beeline for their table.
"Ryan," he said when he reached them, without so much as a preamble, "I need Shawn."
Shawn watched Ryan look up at Derek, his face flushing. "We're still eating. I told you, I'd have her back in an hour."
"Something urgent. I can't not," Derek said shortly, and since Shawn knew him well by now, she could see he was speaking through gritted teeth. He looked at her, his face shadowed in the strong sunlight, his eyes unreadable – and he held out a hand for her to take. "Shawn?"
Mutely, Shawn took his hand and used it to stand up. Derek gripped it, interlacing his fingers with hers, and he turned to look back at Ryan. "Have a good lunch."
"What? Wait – Shawn – we're not yet done!" Ryan shouted after them.
Neither Derek nor Shawn spoke or turned around. They kept walking, Shawn trailing and unsure of where Derek was bringing her, but she was sure of one thing: wherever it was, she was willing to go, as long as he was with her.
