Page 76 of All The Ways to Miss You

With an inward grumble, I acknowledge that these two together could be disastrous. I cross my arms over my chest and scowl.

“Yeah, I decided you were right,” Cait says to me.

“That’s a first. About what?”

“About getting out and having fun.” She smooths her skintight dress, and I follow her hands sliding down her hips, wishing they were my hands, not hers.

“I didn’t realize you were capable,” I say, delivering a little jab.

“Too bad you’ll miss it.” She slips on a tiny leather jacket and tucks a sparkly purse under her arm. Balanced on high heels, the two leave, shutting the door behind them.

Now alone and with my epic plans ruined, I wildly punch at the air with both fists and groan. The mini freak-out is temporary, because I rush to regroup and call the only person who can help with my new scheme—stealing Cait back from Steph.

Clenching my cell, I wait for Steph to post her first evening selfie to social media so I can learn where they’re partying. It takes fifty-six minutes before I’ve zeroed in on their exact location. Tonight they’re at the club Crobar.

“Stalk much?” Steph asks as I appear out of a haze of fog, with roaming laser lighting and retro pop dance music blasting in the background. They’re having some kind of ’80s theme night. I can tell by the Cyndi Lauper and Billy Idol look-alikes.

When Steph spots her crush, Trevor, at my side, her eyes widen. “Damn, you’re good, Wade.”

She slinks around me, fists her hand into his collared shirt, and drags him to the dance floor. Luckily for me, Trevor happily obliges.

Cait remains sitting at their table, her smooth legs crossed and sipping a fancy drink. Except the problem now is there’s a guy hitting on her. And what’s worse? She doesn’t appear to mind. They’re far too close and giggly for my liking.

And here I thought I’d only have to get rid of Steph. I sulk at my new situation, filled with one roadblock after another. With the way Cait looks tonight, I can’t blame the guy for wanting to get to know her, but I still don’t like it.

She hasn’t seen me yet, so I settle at the bar stool next to her. They’re too engrossed in their conversation to notice me, so I listen in.

The guy says, “I’m home for the weekend from Georgetown, visiting my family . . .”

I wait for Cait to share that she attended Georgetown her freshman year, but she never does, which means she can’t be that into him. This guy is so done. With renewed confidence, I scoot closer. When I do, she spots me and flinches in surprise.

“What are you doing here?”

“I decided I needed proof.” I wave down a waitress.

“Of what?”

“Of fun. I still don’t think you’re capable.” I shrug.

She gives me her sassy head tilt, making her hair spill over her shoulders and down her chest. With it long and loose, I want run my fingers through the silky strands and tug.

“Then you’re just in time,” she shoots back as she sets her froufrou drink on the cocktail table. “You can watch me and my new friend, Wyatt.”

“It’s Zack, actually. Zack Taylor,” the guy says.

She gives him a guilty glance and clears her throat. “Right, sorry. You can watch as Zack and I have fun.”

She jumps down from her stool, grabs his arm, and leads him to the dance floor. He’s all too eager to join her. I grit my teeth as I watch the two.

A waitress appears to take my drink order. When she leaves, I settle into my uncomfortable seat. By the general look of Zack, I don’t have high hopes for his dancing abilities. At least, that’s my jealous side talking. From acting as Steph’s wingman, I know what she considers a decent-looking dude, and she’d call this one a dime piece and then rub her tits all over him. So the only hope I have now is for his dancing to suck balls.

Praying for a shitshow and trying to appear unfazed, I bob my head to the music. Except when the two find a spot among the crowd and begin to move, I realize how much trouble I’m in. Zack is a fucking dance genius. I lean forward, my mouth agape, watching his mad skills. Motherfucker.

The waitress drops the drink on my table, and I turn away to down it in one gulp. When I slam the empty glass down, clanking the ice, I commence moping. I’m done tonight. I know when I’ve been outplayed. Getting ready to surrender the mission, I allow myself one last look at Cait before I leave, but I have to do a double take when I see her.

My brows rise. I didn’t notice before, but Cait’s dancing looks like a cat wiggling its way out of a Halloween costume. She’s shaking her leg like there’s tape stuck to the bottom of her foot and she can’t reach it. And what the hell is she doing with her mouth? She looks like a feeding piranha.

I clench my gut and double over with laughter. What makes this extra special is I’m pretty positive she has no clue how ridiculous she looks. She steps on Zack’s toes at least five times, and by the end of the song, they’ve bumped heads twice. I can’t be sure, but this is probably the reason he bolts when the next song begins.