So I stay still. I see his eyes drop immediately. Straight to my thighs. The look is hungry.
It’s been so long since I’ve been touched in that way, I’d do anything for him to just squeeze them right now. Just once. The tension is there,it’s there. Thick. Heavy. Like the air itself is charged. I’m not crazy. Whether he wants to admit it or act on it, it exists.
Our eyes meet for half a second. Then he looks away. I see him take a deep inhale, chest rising under that button-down like he’s bracing himself. Like he’s reminding himself where he is. Who he is.
I smile and look down, pretending my pulse isn’t suddenly loud in my ears.
“I’m so excited,” Maggie says lightly, breaking the silence. “Aren’t you? I can’t wait to find you a hot cowboy.”
I laugh. “I can’t wait either.”
“I just want to have drinks and dance,” I add, laughing with her, forcing myself to sound casual while my body feels anything but.
A country song comes on the radio, one I’ve grown to love since being here and I turn it up. Maggie starts singing along, loud and off-key. I join in, letting the noise fill the cab.
Cole exhales sharply through his nose.
The truck rumbles down the road, and every bump presses me closer to him. Every turn makes my thigh slide just enough to remind me he’s right there. Steady. Warm. Unmoving.
And the thing is? He never once pulls away.
We pull into the gravel lot, neon lights buzzing overhead, blue and red glowing against the dark.
COTTON EYES.
The second we step inside, the smell hits me. Beer. Sweat. Perfume. Heat. The bass thumps through the floor and straight up my legs. The floor is sticky under my boots and honestly? I love it. We don’t have bars like this in Seattle.
Maggie and I go straight to the bar. Tequila shots line up in front of us. One turns into two, then three. The burn slides down my throat and settles low in my belly, loosening everything.
We hit the dance floor.
Cole drifts toward the corner with some guys shooting pool, but I can feel his eyes on me before I even look. When I do, he’s already watching. Not casual. Not curious. Focused.
I let my body move slower. Deeper. Let my hips roll with the beat. Let my confidence take over. Mostly because I know he’s watching.
After a while, Maggie leans in. “See anything you like?”
“A few,” I say honestly.
“I see something I want.” She nods behind me.
I turn and spot a dark-haired, pretty girl dancing nearby — and oh.
Oh my god.
Maggie’s gay.
I grin. “Go get her.”
She’s gone in seconds, leaving me alone with my drink and the music and the heat crawling up my spine. I feel good. Loose. Wanted.
Then I look up. Cole’s eyes are locked on me. Chris Stapleton plays in the background. And our eyes connect and neither of us looks away. I let my body move a little slower, a little sexier, swaying my hips deliberately.
For him. His jaw tightens. Power hums through me. Then—
“Hey there.”
A voice at my ear.
