I flinch at the idea of her living with any guy. Unwarranted jealousy flares through my veins and I can’t stop the bombardment of images in my head. What would it be like to have Audrey all to myself, to be able to touch her whenever I wanted, and to see her sleepy face every morning? I rub out an ache in my chest and continue to watch the loser with his hands on her hips, trying to pull her in closer.
“How can you stand it, man? I mean, how the hell can you watch other guys put their hands all over her?” He has to have known what I was up to over winter break when I dragged her off alone. It’s probably best to leave that be. No reason to bring up the best damn sex of my life, which just so happened to be with his girlfriend.
When her dance partner dips her backward and I catch him trying to look down her shirt, I begin rubbing my chest again. And despite what’s happening on the dance floor, Lane’s watching every move I make.
“You act like a lovesick puppy, and yet you’ve never given her the time of day.”
So she’s talked about me to him? That shouldn’t feel as good as it does. “You two have a weird relationship,” I express.
“I guess it would be weird if I were sleeping with her. But I’m not.” My fists clench, because I’m not sure what to think of his words. “She’s like my little sister and I love that girl to death, meaning I would destroy any asshole that breaks her heart.”
The threat isn’t lost on me. “Can’t break what was never yours.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he replies.
Just then, Audrey dances past us and our eyes connect as her idiot partner spins her around. Her head whips back to look again and I can see the confusion on her face, probably wondering why Lane and I are talking. Lane wiggles his fingers at her and she gives him a tense smile.
“She’s worried I’ll hurt you,” he says, still maintaining forward focus.
“I’m sure you could,” I state, “but she should also be worried that you would get hurt while trying.” He throws his head back laughing and it pulls Audrey’s confused glance back to us. I almost want to laugh with him, because her partner is starting to get annoyed at her lack of attention.
“There’s too much shit between us,” I declare.
“Maybe if you took your head out of your ass long enough to hear what she has to say, you’d change your mind.” When I give him a questioning look, he continues, “Have you ever let her talk?”
I shake my head back and forth because it’s true. If I let her talk, she could convince me to do just about anything. Even betray my own brother by dating his ex-girlfriend, who cheated on him and got pregnant by another man. Shit… that’s a hard pill to swallow.
“Fuck…” I continue rubbing because I have a feeling Lane’s about to make me feel like the biggest asshole known to man.
“She came up here last year to talk to you, not your dickhead brother. But you guys wouldn’t know that, because you never let her say more than two words before cutting her off or ignoring her completely.”
Huge asshole – check!
“Oh, and before your ego grows any bigger… she’s been living in California since the day after she graduated high school. She didn’t make this huge trek out to talk to you last year. I sure as hell didn’t want her to waste her time driving even two minutes to see you.”
“You both live here?” I ask, shocked.
“You either quit staring at her like she’s holding your next breath or you go talk to her,” he says, ignoring my question and pushing off the railing.
“You’re kind of an asshole, you know that?”
“Nah, just protective of my girl.” I don’t need to turn around to see that he’s walking away. I guess this conversation is over. I wish he would fucking stop calling her his girl though. It’s unnerving how one guy can make you grateful that he’s around and enraged at the same time. If it weren’t Audrey that stood in between us, I think Lane and I could be friends. I can appreciate his no-bullshit policy.
The song is finally ending and I can already see Audrey’s partner trying to persuade her to go another round. Not gonna happen, buddy.
- Six -
AUDREY -
Pete, or Paul, or was it Parker? Whoever this guy is, he reeks of cologne. My nose is stinging badly, my eyes are about to start watering, and my head’s beginning to pound. The entire dance I’ve been begging for the song to just end already, and now I need to tell him to take a hike. He got his one dance. I also need to find Lane ASAP to figure out why he was talking to Jace.
The guy with a name that starts with P is still holding onto my hands as I’m trying to gently pull back. The upbeat country song we were just dancing to starts to blend into a slow song. Hell. No. I can’t have my face that close to his body or I’ll pass out from the toxic fumes. Why do guys insist on spraying themselves down with this stuff? It’s not a magical pheromone that’s going to have the ladies chasing you.
“Mind if I cut in?” Jace’s voice growls from beside us.
I don’t even have to think twice about his question. Immediately, I extract myself from Mr. Smell Good and grab Jace’s hands. I can hear the guy’s protests, but Jace moves us toward the opposite side of the dance floor. His movements are fluid and easy to follow.
“Whatever reason you have for dancing with me, I don’t even care right now. Thank you for getting me away from him,” I say, smiling up at him.
He places his hand on my waist and pulls me in closer. His nose scrunches up in disgust. “Damn, he should have just pissed all over you instead.”
“Oh no,” I groan into his shoulder, “is it on me?”
With my eyes closed, I feel the tip of his nose run from my temple slowly down to my neck. He’s sniffing me and it feels primal, possessive, and way too sexy. It’s everything I’m attracted to in Jace; his commanding touch mixed with his sweet softness. My nerve endings are on fire at the memory of what his touch can do to my body.
“Don’t, Jace,” I breathe out in a whisper.
“Hmm?” he mumbles, his nose still burrowed in my neck.
It’s difficult to think straight because, unlike my previous partner, Jace smells clean and delectable. Not an ounce of cologne, just soap and aftershave. “Stop, Jace, I’m trying… I just want to get over you,” I stumble out candidly.
The warmth of his breath tickles behind my ear. “I like it better when you’re under me.” I force myself to pull out of his grasp and walk toward the exit. I can’t do this right now. Jace is much too tempting and not healthy for my mental well-being. He grabs my hand and spins me back into his chest. “I’m sorry, I’ll behave.” I place my left hand back on his bicep and my right in his larger hand. We continue dancing in a comfortable silence.
“Who would have thought two kids from Texas would meet back up at a country bar in California?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.
He smiles and declares, “I have to admit I was skeptical about this place.”
“Me too.”
As if on cue, the slow song fades. The lights begin to darken and a fast beat begins pumping through the speakers. It’s definitely not country music anymore. It must change over after a certain time. The crowd descends onto the dance floor as if they were waiting for this music all night. A secret they were all clued in on, unlike myself. The temperature rapidly escalates with the drastic increase of body heat.
“And… that’s exactly what I was expecting,” he chuckles into my ear. I reach back and grasp my hair into a handheld ponytail so I can cool down. Jace grabs onto my hips and begins dancing in front of me. I look up into his eyes and he shrugs as if saying, ‘Might as well.’ He spins me around so my back is facing him and then blows cool air across my neck. It feels wonderful and much too intimate at the same time.