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Paul looked at her, his face full of disappointment. It was on the tip of her tongue to say no. To send Holt away. But that wasn’t going to happen. “Can you give us a minute, please?” she asked Paul.
He nodded once, his eyes on Holt. “Sure thing.”
After he left, she crossed her arms. “What’s up?”
“We’re on the dance floor, so we should probably dance,” he said, dipping his head down so he could speak in her ear without shouting. “Dance with me, Lyd?”
Her heart twisted at the soft question. The way he used her nickname never failed to make her quiver, which was silly, really. It was just a name. “Sure.”
They started moving to the music, which was an admittedly slower beat than the song before it. His hips moved in a way that she didn’t think was possible, and he kept his hand on her lower back the whole time. His touch burned through her thin shirt. If she didn’t know better, she would swear she wasn’t wearing one at all, from how distinctly she felt him. Knock it off, Lydia. He’s not interested.
“Why did you come over here?” she asked, trying to distract herself from the man, who was driving her insane without even trying. “Isn’t Barbie going to miss you?”
He cocked a brow. “Is that her name? I didn’t ask.”
“Do you always flirt with people without asking their names?”
“All the time.” He shrugged. “Most of the time, I never plan on seeing them again…come morning. Except with you.”
For some reason, knowing he had a protocol made her sick to her stomach. “Sorry for ruining your thing. Though, you don’t have to see me if you don’t want.”
He rolled his hips in a way that screamed sex. Dirty, dirty sex. “We’re in the same bar, so I kind of did have to see you.”
“Not really.” She swayed, and he stared at her hips. When he glanced back up, he wore a naughty smirk. The same one that had pulled her under his spell the other night. “You could have kept talking to Barbie, and I could have kept dancing with Paul, and this wouldn’t be happening.”
“Ah, but it’s not that easy.” He led her toward an alcove, never breaking beat once. “I saw you, and then I saw him, and I had to step in.”
Her heart fluttered. “Why?”
“Isn’t that what friends do?” He tugged her into the shadowed hall, the darkness enveloping them both. She stood still, her hands fisted at her sides, as he circled her, like a shark with its prey. She swore she felt his fingers brush her hip, but it might have been her imagination. “Stop friends from making mistakes?”
“Yeah.” Her nails dug into her palms. “But who says he was a mistake?”
“Did he call you ‘baby’?”
She blinked. “Well, yes. But so did you.”
“When I wanted to fuck you and forget you, I did. That’s what he wanted. I haven’t called you baby since I realized who you were. Since I realized…”
She cocked her head. “Since you realized what?”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s no good for you.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s a mistake. Maybe I don’t want—”
His fingers drifted over her butt, feather-light and almost nonexistent. “Was he me?”
“N-No.” She bit down on her lower lip. “But—”
He pressed her against the wall, his leg slipping in between hers. “Then he was a big fucking mistake.”
Chapter Ten
Holt rolled his knee against her core, grinning when she moaned and clutched at his shoulders. Her sharp nails dug into his skin, and he loved every fucking second of it. Seeing her with that asshole on the dance floor, grinning and smiling and having fun, had sent him over the edge.
Especially since the punk obviously thought he was going to be going home with her. He wasn’t. Little fucker.
Seeing her flirting and dancing had only driven home the point he’d had in his head earlier: If she was going to be with a dickhead, why couldn’t it be him?
