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Somebody had put on “Hooked on a Feeling.” My song. It had been my football walk-up song, and it was one that always got me moving.
“Oh, your ass is alreadyshaking,” Callie said, starting to dance. I saw the camera guys from my TV show picking up their equipment, turning a few cameras my way as if they knew something good was about to happen.
“Damn right,” I said before I started singing. “I can’t stop this feeling deep inside of me…”
I was shaking my hips to the song, and I shouted at everyone else to join me, jumping around the pool like a human pogo stick. Soon, half of the people around the pool deck were moving their asses to Blue Suede, and the most recent drink hit my blood.
Nothing else mattered. I was surrounded by a ton of friends. I was dancing, drinking, and living the dream. I shimmied my hips and arms, not giving a single fuck how dumb I might have looked.
Everyone belted out the first chorus along with me, yelling at the top of my lungs.
“I—I—-I’m—hooked on a feeling! I’m high on believing! That you’re in love with me,” I roared over the stereo, the sound of dozens of voices joining mine.
I let out a whoop after the first chorus and twisted around. And just then, as I glanced inside, I noticed that a certain someone had come through the doors while I hadn’t been looking.
Nathan Wood was here.
He’d actually showed up. And he’d been getting a front-row seat to me twerking my ass off.
“Callie,” I called over the music.
“What’s up?”
“Is it bad if it kind of turns me on to have a straight guy watching me shake my ass?”
She snickered. “Very bad.”
I let my hips rock to the beat, hoping like hell Nathan’s eyes were still on me from behind. “Then is it bad that I’m not going to stop?”
She shrugged. “As long as you don’t fall for him, no harm no foul, right?”
I nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”
I wasn’t going to fall for Nathan, because I didn’t let myself fall foranyone, anymore. It was harmless fun to enjoy his eyes on me, even if I knew I was being a little bad.
Easy. Harmless. And hot as hell.
3
NATHAN
I gripped my fingers around the cool glass neck of the wine bottle in my hand.
Okay, step one, don’t bring a wine bottle to a party like this,I thought, glancing around the house. It was as if the place had been transformed from a clean, modern mansion into a club, with glowing multicolored lights all over.
I stood awkwardly in the living room, by the fireplace. My brothers were going to get a kick out of this one when I told the story later. Apparently I’d been very wrong about the tone of this “get-together,” and I hadn’t felt so out of place at a party since the first time I’d been invited to one in high school.
“Dude! One of the camera guys is here,” some young guy said from behind me. As he walked over I realized that he was talking aboutme, and his bloodshot, very drunk eyes were looking down at the camera I had hanging on my shoulder.
I didn’t bother explaining that it was a vintage Nikon film camera, and that I certainly wasn’t part of theLife of Tomlincamera crew, because the guy who had been pointing at me was now tongue deep in another guy, hanging off of his shoulders.
“Come on!” he said. “Let’s get on TV.”
He smiled at me, and I realized the two of them were drunk enough that they wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow.
“Okay, get on in here,” I said. I set down the unopened wine bottle and hoisted up my camera, acting the part.
“Hell, yeah, dude,” the guy with bloodshot eyes said, his lazy smile getting wider. He slurred a little as he spoke. “It’s so cool that you guys are here to capture the epic vibes of the party for Kace.”
