“You don’t know what I’m like on the dance floor,” I smirk, tightening my grip on her. “Just… try not to fall completely in love with me out there, okay? I know it’ll be hard, but do your best.”
“No promises, bad boy.”
It was a joke, yet, my breath actually catches. The smug smile on my face falters for a half-second, replaced by something so fucking real it hurts. She sees it. I know she does. For a moment, it’s not a game anymore. My eyes catch on the little brown birthmark on her wrist. I lift her hand to my mouth and press my lips right against it.
We walk into the gym and I don’t give a shit about anyone else. My eyes are locked on her.I don’t know how I know, but she’s probably the most beautiful thing in this world.It has nothing to do with her dress, the lights, or the way she moves. It’s just… her. And for the first time, I’m not trying to figure it out. I’m just letting it happen.Fuck. I really am in love with her.
I pull her against me and every thought I had aboutjust one songevaporates. I’m ready to lead, to take control, but she moves first.And fuck me.She’s liquid-smooth. I don’t have to do a goddamn thing. I simply hold on and try to keep up as she flows against me, her movements so natural it’s like the music is coming from inside her.
“This song is so old,” she laughs.
“It’s perfect,” I say, my voice a little rough.
And it is. Cheesy and slow and perfect. I’d kill anyone who tries to take this from me.I’d burn this whole goddamn city down, just to keep her here—pressed against me, moving like we belong to each other.
Of course it doesn’t last. Someone slams into my shoulder. I turn, already annoyed, and there he is. Whistle and half his stupid entourage. “Well, well… look who kissed and made up.”
A couple of the guys snicker behind him.
“Done crying over losing your girl?” Whistle adds, eyes sliding over Sisk.
“You done celebrating your pity win?” I shoot back.
Whistle steps closer, trying to get in my face. “Still sore about it?”
A couple kids nearby oooh under their breath. Sisk squeezes my hand and I glance at her. Her eyes flick toward the small cluster forming around us, then back to me. She leans close, lips brushing my ear. “More witnesses. The better.”
Before I can answer, Whistle bumps me again. “You two gonna keep grinding in the middle of the floor or actually do something fun tonight?”
Sisk pulls back, voice suddenly loud enough for everyone nearby. “We were just leaving anyway.”
“Yeah,” some guy behind Whistle says. Big dude, beard coming in patchy. “This party sucks.”
Someone calls him Bear.
Sisk grins. “This party does suck.”
Becky appears out of nowhere, half drunk already. “Wait—where are you going?”
Sisk says it like it’s nothing. “The Pit.”
The word hangs in the air, setting off a ripple of reactions. It doesn’t spread far—it sticks to the handful of people close enough to hear. My grip tightens on her hand and she glances up at me. “Trust me,” she says.
Behind us Dean whoops. “Hell yeah—after party.”
Bear grins. “I’m in.”
Whistle rolls his shoulders. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
A few others peel off from the crowd—six, maybe seven total. I notice Lou among them. Behind him, a girl drains her spiked punch in one swallow. I glance at Mr. Halpern behind the table, still straightening napkins like he hasn’t been teaching teenagersfor two decades. He’s completely clueless that the punch he’s serving is already doing its job.
We start drifting toward the exit, a little tribe of trouble looking for a place to land. I lean closer to her as we walk. “You trying to get someone killed tonight?”
She smirks. “Relax. We need answers.”
We push through the doors into the night air as a cop starts barking orders at a group of kids crowding the curb. “Back it up. Now.” Detective Rourke steps in beside him, one hand already resting near his radio. “You heard him. Clear the area.” Dean flips them off when he thinks no one’s looking. “Go be stupid somewhere else,” the cop adds, already turning away.
They don’t care where anyone goes—just that they go. By the time anyone glances our way, we’re already halfway across the lot. Too late for anyone to think to ask where we’re headed.
