Teagan’s eyes narrow. Her jaw hardens, and the corner of her eye twitches. “Excuse me?”

Nodding, I turn to the girls. “She wrote one every day for a whole year. Some of them were a little . . . odd.” I turn back to her and tilt my head. “I never thought I’d meet a woman who’s actually turned on by watching me drink beer.”

Brit smiles. “I’d watch you drink beer.”

Teagan ignores her. “My love notes were nothing compared to your little collection from my trash.” She turns to the girls. “He saved old napkins and water bottles I drank from. Even little bits of my hair.”

The girls cover their mouths and take a few steps back.

I choke back a laugh, determined to keep a straight face. “You make it sound creepy.”

“We have to go,” Brit says. “But congrats to you two.”

“Yeah,” Jennifer says. “You’re a totally . . . special couple.” They walk away, and I can barely make out Brit telling her friend that they dodged a bullet. Teagan drains her drink as we watch them go.

“Little bits of your hair?” I ask. “Am I in love with you or planning to murder you and store your corpse in my freezer?”

“I’ve known guys with creepier tendencies,” she says. Standing, she holds out a hand to me and motions toward the crowded dance floor. “Come on. If we sit here, more women are going to want to talk. You dance, don’t you?”

“I think I have to if I want to save my reputation. I’m lucky those women aren’t local, or I’d never get another date.”

I don’t have much time to dwell on that thought. Teagan loops her hands behind my neck and rolls her hips to the song’s quick beat, and I can’t think of anything but her.

I’m stunned by the sudden press of her body into mine, and at first I’m not sure what to do with my hands. Sliding them behind her neck seems too junior high, but if they’re in her hair, I know I’ll be too tempted to tilt her face up so I can kiss her again. If I put them on her waist, they’re bound to roam south to cup the curves her little black dress shows off so well.

“You started this,” she whispers into my ear. “You’d better dance with me like it’s real, no matter how much you’re regretting it right now.”

I grunt in surprise. Regret is the furthest thing from my mind. “I didn’t want to scare you away,” I say, wrapping my arms around her waist to rest my hands at the small of her back.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” She looks up into my eyes, and I wonder what’s going on in that head of hers. She turned so quiet and awkward over dinner. I thought it was because everyone was staring at us, but . . . maybe there was more to it.