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I’m drunk, this is why, I convinced myself.
She tapped her foot impatiently. Any other girl doing that would have annoyed me, but Lila tapping her foot was cute as fuck.
“C’mon, Coulter. Are you about to lose to me?” She tsked. “It’s a simple dare.”
Simple?
Little did she know…
She grew cocky when I didn’t reply, her competitive nature shining through. Lila knew I’d never turn down a dare, and she knew exactly how to get her way.
“Fine, I accept the dare,” I said, my teeth grinding together. “You’re going to regret this, Garcia.”
Lila pressed her lips together to keep from smiling, but she lost the fight. A beautiful smile spread across her lips, and she laughed a bit, the little happy sound shooting straight to my heart.
My fingers curled and uncurled at my sides.
What in the fuck is wrong with me?
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Lila
My body was on fire.
I fought back a shiver, and my pulse throbbed in my throat.
His hands traveled up my arms, slowly… taking his time, as if he was memorizing every inch of my exposed skin. His touch was so soft, so featherlight, but it felt as though he was writing a word, painting a picture or playing a song on my skin. My breath caught, and my heart raced, tripping over itself because it could longer beat in a normal rhythm.
Our eyes connected through the floor length mirror. The intensity of his gaze made my stomach do a crazy flip, and my thighs trembled.
Maddox was wearing a black sleeveless shirt, the muscles in his arms on display, and they clenched and tightened with every move he made. His whole body was a work of art. I wore a tank top and shorts, comfortable enough for dancing.
His blue eyes smoldered with something I couldn’t read–dark and intense.
Friends, I told myself.
We were best friends.
But friends didn’t look at each other the way we did.
The past five days had been sweet torture.
Sweet because I spent every waking hour with Maddox.
Torture because I spent every waking hour with Maddox.
Dancing… touching… breathing so close to each other’s lips… but reminding myself to pull away.
I refused to acknowledge what I was feeling. It was forbidden.
Or maybe I didn’t really comprehend my own wayward emotions.
Why does my body react the way it does when Maddox is close?
Why does my heart hurt… when he’s hurt?
Why does my stomach flutter when he’s touching me?
We were friends, weren’t we?
Being anything more than friends could risk what we had for the last three years and whatever we had was beautiful the way it was.
“Lila?”
His voice, a deep timbre that traveled down through my body and all the way to my toes, snapped me back into the present.
“You just stepped on my toes,” he mumbled, his breath against the tip of my earlobe.
I quickly apologized and went back into the position I was supposed to be in.
Our eyes locked, and I moved my hips against his. He followed my movement, and his grip tightened on my waist, his fingers almost digging into my flesh, and it didn’t seem like he noticed.
Our height difference had the curve of my ass right at his groin, and my eyes fluttered close, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment and… something else.
Maddox made a sound at the back of his throat, and I looked at him through the mirror. His face hardened, and his eyes grew darker, his pupils dilating.
He grasped my hips and spun me around, taking me by surprise. He pulled me closer, our bodies clashing together. His hand skimmed over my bare thighs, right where the shorts ended, and he slowly lifted my left leg up, hooking my thigh around his hip. Fire licked its way through my veins, and I burned hotter.
Maddox dipped me low, and his warmth seeped through my clothes all the way through to my bones.
“You look a little red, Garcia,” he rasped. “Am I too hot for you?”
He pulled me back up, and my heart thudded in my chest. I turned around and rolled my eyes, trying to look indifferent to his stupid remarks and his close proximity.
Maddox chuckled low, his chest vibrating with the sound, and I felt the vibration against my back. “You’re rolling your eyes at me, I know. I can see your reflection in the mirror, Lila.”
My eyes narrowed on him, and I swiveled around again, swatting his chest. “Concentrate on the dance, Maddox.”
His arm snaked around my waist, and he pulled me hard into his body. I stumbled into his chest. “I have you,” he muttered softly, and his arm tightened around my waist.
Maddox fished out the white blindfold from his pocket, and he covered my eyes, stealing away my ability to see. I was supposed to be blindfolded for half of this dance, making it trickier. It was all about trusting your dance partner.
It forced me to feel every one of his moves, his steps, our matching rhythm, our shuddering breaths and the heat coming off him. My body was even more hyperaware of Maddox’s closeness to me.
