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“Are you from this area?” he said, staying close, leaning in. His eyes roved down my face to my cleavage. “North Carolina, I mean.”
“No,” I said. “I’m from Queens, New York.”
“Queens?” he said and made a face. “How did you end up here?”
I sighed. I really didn’t want to have to relate the whole business. “Circumstances,” I said and smiled.
“Okay. You don’t want me to know.”
“It’s a sad story, and I’m finished with sympathy and condolences.”
He nodded and touched my arm sympathetically. “I get it. So, how about I ask you your future plans.”
“Just got accepted as an intern for the FBI starting in January,” I said, unable to keep a huge smile off my face. “When I finish my degree, I hope to join the FBI if they’ll take me.”
“Wow. A woman of substance as well as looks. Why aren’t you taken?”
I shrugged. “I was.”
“Whoever he is, he’s an idiot for letting you slip away.”
I smiled but didn’t say anything.
“No one new on the horizon?”
I shook my head. “I’ve been a bit of a bookworm for the past year.”
He nodded. “Finishing your degree, huh?” He smiled. “Beauty and brains. My favorite combination. What are you studying?”
“Forensic Psychology.”
He nodded but said nothing more and I was out of small talk – thank God. My small talk needed work big time. I’d been out of the dating scene for… well, since I met Dan during my first year at CUNY when he was on leave and on a trip to visit his uncle in Manhattan. We were together from then on, with Dan spending every weekend he could with me or I’d travel down to his parent’s place in North Carolina. Before Dan, I’d been with my high school sweetheart who I met in my freshman year and dated until I started at CUNY.
Dating was not something I looked forward to.
I focused back on Beckett. What a gorgeous man… He was obviously interested in me and I felt a thrill of excitement go through me. I started classes in a few weeks, but I was going to have fun tonight. Serious research would commence then so until then, I was free.
We danced with nothing else being said for the music was really blaring now and I thought fuck it. When he put his hands on my hips and danced really close and sexy, swaying his own hips in time with mine, I put my hands on his shoulders and didn’t complain. I was definitely feeling it, my mind moving to where I’d like those hands to go next.
We danced for at least five songs and I was starting to get really heated, not only from the dancing, but by the incredibly sexy way he moved in closer, leaning down so his face was beside mine, his lips at my ear, his breath warm on my skin.
Then, out of the blue, Steve appeared at our side and leaned over to me.
“Care if I cut in?” he said to Beckett.
Beckett glanced at my face, but when I said nothing, he stepped back and bowed.
“Be my guest.” He shot me a meaningful glance and then turned back to the bar.
On my part, I turned to Steve and was frustrated. You didn’t cut in on people anymore. That was so antiquated. You waited until the person finished dancing and then you asked them to dance the next song. You didn’t cut in.
Unless you thought you had rights…
Did Steve somehow think he had rights to me?
Steve and I danced in silence for a few moments, and I wondered what the heck he was up to.
“Was there a reason you interrupted us when we were dancing? Some kind of important message or something?” I said, trying to keep the acid out of my voice.
