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She turns that smile on me.
Fuck. I feel a catch in my chest.
She bumps her hip into me.
Fuck.
This girl won’t stop making me smile.
I don’t wanna smile, I just—
Goddamn it.
How can I not when I see Greer having fun like this? The girl who, not long ago, looked ready to fall over from burnout?
I’m aroused enough to think bumping her back with my own hip is a good idea.“That doesn’t count as shaking my ass,” I tell her above the music.
She bites her lip, pins me with a saucy stare. “It’s a start.”
She begins to really dance. Closing her eyes. Snapping her fingers. Rolling her ass side to side.
God, those jeans make her ass look good.
Greer looks so good like this, drink in hand, arms in the air, body moving in time to the music. Carefree. Cute as hell with her bangs falling into her eyes.
My insides go soft. Dick goes hard.
Hank sings about needing someone to protect. The lyric hits. It shouldn’t.
It really, really shouldn’t.
Not when I’m watching Greer Fieldstone dance to The Rolling Stones. Red wine on her lips and in my blood.
Apparently I’m not the only one to notice how good Greer looks. One of the wedding party dudes is watching her, eyes flicking down her body. Back up.
She catches him looking. Rage hits me square in the stomach when she smiles at him. He smiles back.
I see red.
Next thing I know, she’s striking up a conversation with him. She’s moved away from me a little. Just enough to let the guy know she and I are not together.
I clench my teeth as I pretend not to listen to their conversation.
“You from around here?” the guy asks.
“Charlotte,” Greer shouts back, way too loud.
“Oh, cool. I’m from Richmond.”
“Cool!” She’s still talking too loudly. “I saw you over there with your friends. I like the way you boogie.”
I cringe, trying not to laugh. I like the way you boogie?
Greer has never been awkward around me. Then again, we’re practically family at this point.
With this guy, though? She’s downright painful.
“Ha! Thanks. You’re not so bad at boogying yourself.” His eyes rake down her body again.
The laughter dies in my throat.
“I love music.” Greer self-consciously tucks her hair behind her ear.
“Yeah,” the guy replies. “Wanna dance?”
“I’d love to, yeah! I love dancing. Dancing and music. I love them both, you know? They go so well together.”
“Yeah, they do.”
I shake my head. Her extreme discomfort is cute. Kinda tragic too.
Breaks my heart. Also makes me really fucking angry. She’s so much smarter than this. So much more interesting. Is she really dumbing herself down for this asshat?
She looks at me. “You gonna be okay?”
“I’m fine,” I grunt.
“This your date?” Mike asks.
Greer, still looking at me, shakes her head. “He’s . . . family.”
I guess she and I are able to read each other’s minds now.
“Oh.” Mike is visibly relieved. “Oh, great. I’m Mike, by the way.” He extends his hand.
I don’t take it, but Greer does. “Hi. I’m Greer. It’s nice to meet you. How great is this place?”
“So great. I’ve been up here a bunch of times. You?”
“First time for me.”
The handshake lasts a beat too long. The red in my vision curls to deep amber at the edges. Almost black. Like my line of sight is a piece of paper going up in actual flames.
I know this move well. The lingering touch. The promise of more.
Next she’ll be putting a hand on his arm, and he’ll slip that arm around her waist.
They’ll flirt. Touch. Go back to his bullshit room together. He’ll come. She won’t.
That’s one move I don’t know. My partner always comes first.
There’s something about Mike that makes me think he’s not quite as chivalrous.
They leave, heading for the stage. They start to dance. I breathe in through my nose, out through my mouth. Throw back the rest of my cider, wishing I’d gone for the spiked stuff.
He says something in her ear. She tosses her head back and laughs, still too loud.
His hand is on the small of her back.
Fuck you, Mike from Richmond.
I should go. This is not going to end well. I’m not a jealous guy.
Guess I am when Greer’s involved.
Only, when I will my feet to move toward the main house where our rooms are, they don’t budge. I just stand there. Watch Greer dance with this fool. My hands clench into fists as song after song goes by.
They get closer and closer.
And then he kisses her. The dipshit guy actually goes for it, leaning in only for their teeth to collide. Greer visibly winces. Mike doesn’t let that deter him. He sticks his tongue into her mouth.
The shock of it startles her. She arches her back and puts her hands on his chest in an obvious attempt to push him away.
He only holds her more tightly against him. His mouth gropes for hers. A frisson of fury, white-hot and hard, rips through me.
