As he flung her out one final time, she lost balance a little and cast out an arm to compensate. She stumbled, clutching at him to avoid falling. That was when she heard the rip.

The first sensation was relief—she could finally breathe. But that was followed quickly by terror as she realized the entire seam along the backside of her dress had ripped wide open, and the entire restaurant was about to catch a full and unobstructed view of her ass.

She spun and backed up against Ben’s body, plastering herself flat against him.

“Wow, Meggie,” Ben said as she ground into his crotch. “I never realized dancing got you so hot.”

She twisted her neck around far enough to send him the stink eye. Then she clutched at him for dear life.

“Do not move away from me,” she managed.

“Sure, no problem. Are you . . . flirting with me? Because if you are, I’m all in.” As she pushed against him, he wrapped his hands around her upper arms, a move which normally would have caused goose bumps to course up and down their lengths.

She scootched up against his chest and put her mouth near his ear. “Listen to me carefully. I’m only going to say this once. I am not flirting with you. My dress tore and . . .”

He stilled suddenly. “And what?” he asked.

“And I always wear undies. I never go anywhere without them. Except maybe for today.”