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He hums then looks out the door to make sure no one is around. “You need to pay more attention in class.”
I snort. “Is that all?”
“No. You also need to refrain from biting your lip—at least while you’re in here.”
At the sound of his words, a whole new dose of confidence flows throughout my body. I take a step closer and let my eyes take over his body. I bet that suit would look a whole lot better on the classroom floor.
“And why’s that?” I ask, biting my lip teasingly. “Can’t handle it?”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “Tessa.”
It’s difficult to contain my amusement, but I manage to do it as I run my hand down his arm. “What’s wrong, Asher?”
In a swift move, he grabs my wrist and holds it firmly away from his body. “Stop. This isn’t the time or the place to play your little games.”
“And when is the time? While we’re making flirty eyes across a bar, or when you get me alone in a hotel suite?” I stick my tongue out seductively while he watches, not saying anything. “You remember that night, don’t you? The way you made me scream for hours?”
Just when I think I’m starting to get somewhere, he releases me and steps away. “Not going to happen, Callahan. Now go, you have a class to get to—part of being a student.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn on my heels and walk out of the room. Asher may think he’s the one in control, but he just slipped up. Now I know one of his weaknesses, and I’m going to use it to play him like a violin.
I PULL UP TO the dance studio, ignoring all the people who gawk at my car as I get out. The music from inside can be heard from the sidewalk, and I can see Lennon dancing through the window. She’s so talented, with the things she can do with her body. It’s incredible.
And then there’s Brady. Twenty-three years old and looking like a fucking God, Brady Laurence is everything sexual fantasies are made of—and as straight as a circle. Maybe if he was flamboyant and had rainbows and glitter coming out of his ass, it would be easier to not be attracted to him. Unfortunately for girls everywhere, that’s not the case. He’s 180 pounds of muscle and pure manly man, except for maybe the fact that he’s a better dancer than most. Although, in his defense, that’s what happens when you grow up with your mom owning the studio.
“Oh, hey,” Lennon greets me as soon as she sees me standing in the doorway. “Is it five already?”
“Five-thirty.”
Her eyes widen. “Shit. Okay, let me change, and we’ll go.”
She disappears into another room, leaving Brady and I alone together. He walks over to the side and picks a water bottle up off the floor. The way he wipes the sweat off his forehead shouldn’t be nearly as sexy as it is.
“Hey, Tess.”
I shake the thoughts from my head. “What’s up, Brady?”
“Oh, you know. The usual.” He walks over and pulls his iPhone off the base. “Have you heard from Savannah lately?”
Ah, Savannah. She used to dance at this studio, too—until she graduated with a full ride to Juilliard. She and Brady have been best friends for years, ever since Sav’s father went all dead-beat-dad and Mrs. Laurence was the one to give her something to strive for. Hell, the two of them even fake dated for four years. The dedication to masking their truths was a little excessive, if you ask me, but their loyalty to each other is something I can appreciate.
I shake my head. “She’s more Delaney’s friend than she is mine.”
He chuckles. “That’s not true. I remember the three of you being the best of friends when you were kids.”
“Yeah, well, that was before she vanished for years and then came back with a new year, new me attitude.”
“You’re still holding that against her?”
I shrug, breaking our eye contact to look at the ground. “You didn’t see what that did to Delaney.”
The topic is one of few that I shy away from. My sister is the most important person in my life, and seeing the way she was destroyed by Savannah’s refusal to acknowledge her after being gone for three years—let’s just say Delaney may forgive her, but it’s going to take a lot more than an apology and some groveling before I do.
“Touché.” Brady smiles and drops the subject.
A few minutes later, Lennon emerges again, dressed in jeans and a HGP hoodie. She gives Brady a quick hug goodbye and then links her arm in mine and heads for the door. I pull the keys from my pocket, unlocking the door. The second we get in, Lennon sighs.
“God, I’ve missed you.”
