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“Can I have a dance?”
The static turned up all the way, until my ears hurt, then dimmed, until that low, deep voice was all I heard.
I’d slow-danced with Liam earlier, so I suppose it wasn’t that weird I’d dance with him, too. Except as I peered over my shoulder, I found his gaze pouring into mine in a way that screamed this would be different.
The word rang in my ear, over and over—classmate—as I chewed on my lip, messing up whatever remained of my red lipstick, and tried to resist the pull in my gut, the way that outstretched palm called to me, the way the rest of the room faded into nothingness.
His gaze poured into mine, like my next words would condemn him to death or save him, and maybe I was an idiot, but my chin dipped into a little nod.
My fingers brushed over his palm, before settling.
Did he really do that?
My eyes swept over his face, scanning it for clues and trying to peer behind those eyelashes.
His hands found my waist as Lana del Rey’s Young and Beautiful curled around the dance floor, stabbing me in the gut and making my heart flutter stupidly at the same time.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he murmured, as my fingers whispered over his upper arms, too slow, until they offset the caress by landing on his shoulders with almost clinical precision. Up close, the chandelier caught the silver thread in his black suit, making it shimmer.
“You must be a detective or something.”
I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore the way the light played over his infuriatingly handsome face, the way his thumbs stroked the line of my waist. The distance he maintained between us—so proper—pissed me off most of all.
A slow, lopsided little grin flashed over his face before he chuckled. His breath ghosted over my face, carrying hints of something sweet that mingled with his signature sandalwood.
He opened his mouth, but the thought of hearing some excuse made me want to slap him.
“Besides, didn’t you ask for time?” I retorted, putting a bit more bite into my voice and desperately trying not to look at his mouth—or at the rest of him—and failing.
The charcoal shirt lay open at the collar now, tie discarded somewhere during the night, showing a peek of lightly tanned skin and drawing my eye to the hollow of his throat, where I could almost see his pulse jump.
“You know, for a smart woman, you can be really dense sometimes,” he chuckled.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I bit out.
His fingers snapped up, one between my shoulder blades, another on the small of my back as he nudged me into a dip that drew my heart into my mouth. My breath stuttered and died as he held it for a heartbeat that stretched forever.
The brush of other people near us on the dance floor, the clicks of heels, and the whispers faded away, leaving me suspended on the edge of a cliff, with my fingers biting into his shoulders for purchase.
“Time to solve the problem, silly. Not time away,” he murmured, close enough his breath brushed my mouth and drew my gaze to his lips, and I didn’t know if I wanted to yank him closer—or slap him.
His hands pulled me back up and my heart and stomach returned to their designated positions with a dizzying flip.
My fingers speared into the hair at his nape, giving it a little reprimanding yank that only dragged out another chuckle, a rough sound like smoky whiskey that slid right under my skin, spiking my pulse with something I couldn’t quite convince myself was only irritation.
I searched his face, seeing the plea in his eyes and wishing Pri had kept her mouth shut, because she’d scrambled my brain.
“Oh,” I breathed, torn between the pull and the confusion, feeling like I was walking a tightrope with a blindfold on.
“Besides…” he hummed, fingers splaying on my lower back and pressing me a sliver closer, until his body heat mingled with mine without touching, “tell me it doesn’t excite you, fooling all these people…”
The hand between my shoulder blades trailed up my spine, kicking up goose pimples and my pulse along with them, until it settled on my nape, and his thumb brushed my hairline, over and over.
“… that nobody knows my lips have been all over you.”
He rolled his lower lip between his teeth, slow and intentional, as his eyes dragged over my mouth.
“Tell me I’m wrong. Lie to me,” he purred, smirking as though he’d read every thought behind my eyelids.
