Chapter 9
Gavin
My mother always told me to go after what I wanted. Said there was nothing stopping me except for myself and fear of failure. She meant it in the context of my learning disability – wanting me to pursue something I’m good at and not give up.
It’s a great life philosophy in theory, and has helped me in my basketball career, but I’m not sure it’s all that helpful in dealing with Kady.
Being with Kady has been great and she’s somehow filled the void I didn’t realize was there. Cured me of my homesickness. But she’s also confused the hell out of me because I don’t know what I want from her.
As I watch her dance from my spot at the table, my thoughts zig-zag like a pinball between flippers. I’ve heard about these tours in the Bahama’s where people pay to swim with sharks or feed the stingrays. You know, get up-close-and-personal with normally dangerous wildlife that would likely kill you out in the wild. I’ve always thought that was a strange way to spend a vacation, dodging potential death.
But that’s exactly what I think about as I watch Kady writhing suggestively out on the dance floor, with a swarm of men circling around her, as if she’s their prey. She looks gorgeous and carefree, her golden hair shimmering in the spotlights, her hands and body in constant motion. Those men probably believe she’s just a naïve tourist, enjoying a night out on the town.
Little do they know, she’s the shark.
That may be a terrible analogy, but I meant what I said to Luca. Kadyisdangerous. If she wanted to, she could tear any of those guys apart limb to limb. And they wouldn’t even know it was happening.
Which is exactly what I’m terrified of. Either that, or I’m afraid I’ll like it too much.
I’ve been watching her dance for the last fifteen minutes, my thoughts jumbled and chaotic. When I returned to the table with more beer, Luca and Kady were already out dancing. They danced with each other at first, but soon split up, joined by other partners.
Two women circled and danced around Luca, grinding up against him suggestively as he smiled lazily at me over the tops of their heads.
Kady had several guys in and out of her space. Right now, she’s with an older guy with a shock of bright yellow, spikey hair, who is lewdly pawing at her. Every time she turns her back to him, he encircles her hips with his beefy hands. She bats them away and then faces him again, pushing an arm out to create the space she wants. Fearless and feisty.
There have been several times I’ve been ready to storm out there and tear his hands off her backside. But each time my help has been unnecessary because she’s expertly diverted his wandering hands, like she’s a pro at dealing with man-handling.
My gaze doesn’t leave her, as if I’m under a spell – hypnotized by the sexy little vixen swaying to the music. I have no clue what song is playing, but watching her enjoy herself and move to the rhythm is a sight to behold. She knows I’m watching her, too. With a playfully seductive smile fanning across her lips, she beckons me to do something.
Her eyes say, “Make a move, buddy. Shit or get off the pot.”
Setting the beer in hand down on the table, I stride toward her with purpose. With the sole intention of making her mine. I’ve concluded that this is going to happen. She’s a force of nature that can’t be denied.
This is me flying my white flag, giving in to the possibility of losing all semblance of the tightly wrapped control I’ve held onto. I can’t fight it any longer. I need to lose myself in her.
Stopping behind the spiked-haired man whose back is to me, I politely tap him on the shoulder.
“Mi scusi,” I say, certain that he’s Italian.
He jumps in surprise, but composes himself when he sees me. It’s a bit ironic. I never dance, yet here I am, cutting in to dance with this girl. The guy eyeballs me, looking ready to go to war over Kady.
I’ve never fought over a girl. This guy is relatively scrawny, so I doubt I’d have any problem taking him down if it came to blows, but I don’t want to fight the guy. I just want to dance slow and close to Kady. To feel her backside bump and grind against me. To feel the friction and heat of her body. To hold her tight.
He gives a wary glance to Kady, who shrugs and smiles eagerly, nodding her head toward me. The man takes his cue and allows me room to slide in, as he bends to kiss her on the cheeks.
“We will meet again,bella,” he croons assuredly over the thumping music, before he heads off to find another dance partner.
Kady wastes no time and wraps her small hands around the back of my neck, as my own fingers snake around her tiny waist. There’s barely an inch between us and the heat and scent of her body envelopes me.
Warmed peaches.
Goddammit.
“Took you long enough.”
I laugh and roll my eyes.
“I told you I don’t dance.”
