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Most of the time, I ended up sneaking over to his place, saying I was hanging out with Michelle. Morgan was the one I was worried about, rather than my parents, who had long ago given up on trying to track my movements. I’d been in college, an adult, they knew they couldn’t keep track of me. But I still had to be careful around them because if they found out I was sneaking around, and with whom, they would be sure to tell Morgan, and that was a World War III that I wasn’t ready to have yet.
I longed for the day when we could be open and be seen together doing whatever the hell that we wanted and hang anyone who gossiped about us. I wanted to be able to act like normal couples, seeing each other whenever we wanted to and not care who said anything because what would they say? Billie Adams and Pike Transcom are dating? Yeah, we already knew that, it’s open, it’s old news.
But we weren’t there yet, so. Sneaking around it was.
“I can’t come back to your place, actually,” I said. I couldn’t quite help the glee in my chest as I saw Pike’s face fall a little. He looked so disappointed and I had to bite my lip to hold in my grin.
He really did want me to come over. He really did want to spend time with me. Sure, I was still nervous, but every bit of time that I spent with him was showing me more and more that he was serious. That I really could trust him.
“My parents aren’t home,” I told him, leaning in at just the right angle so that I knew my breasts were on display. I saw Pike’s gaze dart down, then drag itself back up to my face, like he was forcing himself not to stare at them. A thrill raced through me and I felt sexy, powerful.
“They’ll be out all night, actually,” I went on. “I suppose you could… come over, if you wanted. Hang out? Watch TV on the couch?”
Pike grinned at me. “Necking never sounded so good.”
“Oh my God, you’re making us sound like teenagers.”
“You were a teenager not too long ago, remember that, you young whippersnapper.”
“Oh, fuck off,” I said, but I was laughing. “Just let me close up, okay?”
Pike waited patiently as I closed up the bar, shooing out the few remaining customers—not that there had been a lot of them to begin with—and counted the till. He helped me turn off all the lights, and sweep and mop the floor. “You’re more helpful than some of my coworkers.”
“Well, I’ve got a better incentive,” Pike pointed out, winking at me.
The tavern had an old jukebox, that was mostly used by drunk groups when they got the idea in their head to play karaoke and sing along to songs like “Sweet Caroline” and then got ignored the rest of the time. But it still worked, and I nearly jumped out of my skin in surprise when Pike stuck a quarter in it and it started to play music.
“What the hell?” I asked, laughing.
Pike held his hand out. I shook my head. “No, no, absolutely not, Pike…”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me in, wrapping his other arm around to press his hand to the small of my back. “We never got to dance properly, at the kegger.”
“We totally danced.”
“Not properly,” he emphasized, spinning me out and then pulling me back in.
I laughed in surprise, delighted. “I didn’t know you could dance. I mean, like this.”
Pike led me across the floor. It wasn’t waltzing, it was a bit more like swing dancing, but it didn’t even matter so long as I was in his arms and we were moving to the music together. “Yeah, I learned ages ago. Amber’s family holds these parties, or other families would and she’d have to go to them, and no way was I going to be the one idiot who couldn’t hold my own when they struck up the band. And besides.” He turned and dipped me, his arm strong, keeping me supported. “Women love a guy who knows how to dance.”
He pulled me back up again and I gasped a little as we pressed together from ankle to chest, his warmth leeching into me, his strong, hard body all I could pay attention to. “It has its charm,” I admitted, my voice breathless, barely a whisper.
The corner of Pike’s mouth twitched up into an almost-smirk. “Sure does.”
I wanted him to kiss me so badly that moment. I wanted him to take my leg and wrap it around his waist, to grind against me, to fuck me on the goddamn bar top.
But instead he pulled back with a knowing look on his face, like he knew exactly what he was doing to me, and said, “You ready to go?”
