Tell me about it…

"Okay. Get up. We have to do it again."

"What?"

Climbing to her feet, Molly danced over to her iPod and tapped at the screen. A moment later, Garth Brooks' Two of a Kind began to waft from the speaker. "Get up," she repeated, crooking her finger. "Dance with me."

"What – here?"

"Here." Nodding, she grinned. "Let's see if we can remember the routine."

"Oh, hell no." I shook my head. "You must be high as Everest right now if you even think –"

"Need I remind you that I'm your queen of the south, Daryl King," she cut me off by saying. "You owe me. Now get your butt up and dance with me."

"Jesus Christ," I grumbled, slowly pulling myself to my feet. "You're losing your damn mind, Dolly."

Still, I did as she asked. Why? I had no fucking clue, but this girl had a weird sort of hold on me. One look at those big, brown eyes, and I was willing to make a fool of myself all over again for her.

Always for her.

Moving into position, I clamped a hand on her hip and pulled her close.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she breathed, when I closed the space between us and pulled her little body flush against mine, heart bucking wildly in my chest.

"I'm doing what you told me to do," I replied, placing one of her small hands on my shoulder before claiming the other with my big hand. "Dance, Dolly. Move your feet."

"This isn't how I remember it going," she strangled out, tentatively moving her body against mine. "This feels different. You…feel different."

"That's because we're not six years old anymore," I replied, repressing the glorious fucking shiver threatening to roll through me at the feel of her pressed so close to me. "You're not a little girl anymore, Molly-Dolly." I tightened my hold on her small frame, pulling her so close that I could feel her heart hammering against mine. "And I'm a grown man now."

"Yeah." She exhaled shakily and pressed her little frame against mine. "We're all grown."

"You're still cute as a button," I told her, chuckling when she scrunched her nose up in disgust. "You are," I defended when she began to protest. "Fucking adorable."

"I'm supposed to be a woman, D," she growled, which only made her sound even more adorable. "Grown women aren’t cute. Grown women are sexy."

"Oh, don’t worry, Molls," I replied huskily. "You're definitely that, too."

She blushed and a little tremor rolled through her. "Don't."

"Don't what – don’t tell you that you're sexy?" Chests flush together, we continued to sway to the music. "Well, too bad, because you are."

Her breath escaped her in an audible puff. "D…"

"So fucking sexy." I knew I was, once again, barreling head first over the lines of our relationship that Molly had carefully erected, but needing her to know how goddamn beautiful she was seemed far more important to me in this moment. Besides, I'd already blurred those lines a time or two. "You can feel me right now, can't you?" I asked, thrusting my hips against hers.