Her question stills me for a moment. No matter how I want to deny it, I can’t. Yes, I did put Piper on a pedestal, but that’s where she belongs.

“Don’t stare at me like that,” she quips, placing her hands on her hips. “I’m no saint.”

“Oh?” I respond, my eyebrow arching in question. “Tell me, little Butterfly, what nasty things have you been doing?” I lean in, trailing my lips over the shell of her ear, allowing my warm breath to draw out a soft whimper from her. “Were you alone in your bed, dreaming about the big bad wolf? Did he climb through the window and devour you?”

Our banter has always been our foreplay. The back and forth we throw at each other is my weakness, because it takes all my restraint not to bend her over the worktop and lick her from her heels to her pert little backside.

“You don’t play fair, at all, Ryder.” She pouts. Her full pink lips make me lick my own. Leaning in, I plant a soft kiss on her mouth, and another, and another. With each moment of contact between us, heat scorches through me. We should get to the school to go through the routine, but I know a better place to take her.

“I’m taking you to the warehouse.”

She pulls away, her eyes searching mine. “To dance?”

It’s been so long since we’ve done a routine together, since I’ve just let myself feel the music. I nod. “Yes. We’ll dance.”

“Will we do it to a song of my choice? You always promised to teach me something that’s not conventional.” The hope in her eyes holds me hostage, gripping me so hard I can’t breathe. Since we met and she fell into my world, I promised her a routine. One I’ve long since forgotten.

“I’m not sure I can.” It’s an honest answer.

She nods. “I get it.”

“But for you I’ll try.”

Tears shine in her eyes, making them glisten like two large orbs of see-through glass.

“I’ll always try for you.”

She leans up on her tiptoes, pressing her closed mouth on mine. The heat of her kiss taunts my barely there restraint.

“Now make me pancakes.” She giggles as she steps back, settling herself on the stool. Shaking my head with a chuckle, I grab the bowl and start to mix the ingredients while she tells me about the kids she’s been teaching.

* * *

When we reach the warehouse, it’s empty, and this is why I love coming here. The silence that greets me each time is calming, especially when I needed to think and get away from the noise of my childhood home. This building was my sanctuary.

I still can’t believe Piper recalls the day I told her about what I did. My weakness was evident that day, shining right through. I hated my life, my parents didn’t understand who I was, but then again, what teenager believes their folks are there as a support rather than a hindrance.

Shoving the large metal door open, it creaks loudly in protest. I allow Piper to enter first. She wanted to stop at home to change before coming here. Seeing her in those low-hung gray sweatpants, the bright purple sports bra, and the blue tank top with large ripped sections on the front and back—that looks like it’s seen better days—has me recalling the times I’d had to swallow down my desire for her.

At the time, she was far too young. I would’ve gone to jail. But now, all bets are off. She’s twenty, old enough to make her own decisions, and adult enough for me to stare at and imagine her naked.

“Are you going to stand there all day staring at me?” she quips, pulling out her iPod, placing it on the docking station.

“Just appreciating the view, Butterfly,” I tell her, stalking closer to the space we’d made a dance floor out of so many times before.

Before I have time to think, the song in question comes on, and I recognize it immediately. That song. It was released about a year ago, before I decided to walk back into her life. When I’d first heard it, I thought about working on a routine for it.

And this is certainly unconventional. Even though it’s not your average hip hop song, the beat is there, and I can get the eight count for the steps.

"Shape of You" by Ed Sheeran always made me think of her. No matter where I was, what I was doing, I had to stop and remember her.

Each time I’ve heard it since, it’s been like a shot to the heart, threatening to kill me.

“This is the song you wanted?” I question, nearing her as she turns to face me.

She smiles, shrugging before responding. “Yeah, you up for it, old man?”

“Don’t sass me, Piper, you know I’ll take you over my knee,” I warn before pulling the hoodie I’m wearing off, chucking it on the chair beside the stereo.

“You have an idea for steps then, smartass?” she questions, arching her golden eyebrow at me.

“Come here, Butterfly that’s soon to have a sore ass.” I tug her over to the dance floor, placing her in front of me, my body cocooning hers as I grab her hips and hold her steady. I wait out the last few strings before the song replays.

Her breathing speeds up, but I grip her tightly.

“Remember your fifteenth birthday dance,” I whisper in her ear and she nods. “Good girl, same count, same steps. And go.” I release her and she flows into the drop, spinning on her knees to face me, grabbing my hand as I tug her from the floor.

The slim frame against mine has every nerve in my body electric. Reaching for her hips, I lift her into the air, turning as the beat drops. Her back arches like I taught her, her hands in the air, her legs high. She looks like a fucking beautiful swan in my hands.

“Now drop.” My order comes swiftly and I allow her to slide down my front, her breasts squashed against my chest. Every inch of me responds, needy for her.

Swallowing it down, I focus on the dance and drop to one knee before leaning forward, and she takes her cue easily. Her body dips and she slides her back over mine in a fluid movement as we get lost in the rhythm.

As the crescendo hits, I feel alive again. I haven’t had that emotion soar through me in years, and now, for the first time since I walked out and left her crying at the empty bus station as tears streamed down her rosy cheeks, I’m happy. I’m fucking ecstatic and it’s all because I’m home.

I’m with Piper.

The song comes crashing to an end, and I realize when silence hits us once more, that I’m holding her in my arms and I’m kissing her. My lips mold to hers. Her tongue tentatively darts out to meet mine.

A soft muffled moan is the only sound she makes because I swallow all her whimpers. I revel in them. I drink them in like they’re my sustenance and I know there’s no way I can leave her again.