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The minute my feet hit the dance floor, I let the rhythm of the pounding music flow through me. The two shots hit quickly, mixed with the other three I'd already had, and my body relaxed, making it the perfect amount of loose. Whisper-singing the words, I closed my eyes and let my body move to the music's slow, seductive rhythm.
Three songs later, I fought hard to keep my eyes closed and not look up to search for Chance. Instead, I kept moving my body, swaying my hips to the beat, hoping his eyes were on me. Then, I wasn't alone. Someone was behind me; his large body moved in rhythm with mine as he closed the gap between us. Warmth surrounded me as his large hands curled around my hips, pulling me harder against him as we moved together. My hips ground against his.
Was it Chance? If it was, he was feeling brave tonight. If it wasn't, then he was watching.
The mystery man tangled his fingers into mine, wrapping his arms around me without missing a sway, our bodies flush against each other. His head fell into the nape of my neck, and his accelerated breaths fanned across my sensitive skin—the sweet smell of liquor on his breath. Even though my skin was slick with sweat, chills raged over my body as my already-pounding heart seemed to skip a beat, and my stomach fluttered.
I hadn't felt like this in years. Not since him!
The song changed, and the beat was slower. We moved slower; each sway of our hips was seductive foreplay, creating an ache between my legs; I was desperate for more. It was as if we were alone and not in the middle of hundreds of people on the dance floor of a club.
I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to know if it was Chance. My eyes flashed open, flicking up to where Chance had been before I'd walked onto the floor. My gaze immediately locked with his flat expression.
It wasn't Chance... But he was watching... Along with the entire football team.
My mystery man's hands released mine as they slid over my body, stopping at the small amount of bare skin on my stomach. Sliding under my shirt, he placed his large palm flat against my stomach while his other hand slid over the front of my thigh, gripping the denim fabric painted against my skin right below my V; I let my eyes roll back at the aggressive feeling of his touch. I gasped as his thumb brushed against the denim, covering my panties with every sway of my hips. He smiled against my neck. He knew what he was doing, and I wanted more. I'd almost completely forgotten about Chance.
With his hands still on me, I spun in his arms, and my heart sank when my wide eyes landed on Maddox. He was taller, with more defined muscles and tattoos covering his arms, but other than that, he looked exactly the same. He was still breathtakingly gorgeous, standing in front of me in his jeans and a fitted black tee. A smile spread across his face. He still had that same perfect smile that sucked you in, stealing your breath.
A wave of panic washed over me. Did he recognize me?
I shook my head; no, he didn't. He was trashed, and it was dark. Shoving out of his arms, I bolted for the door.
"Wait," he slurred, reaching for me. I didn't stop, dodging his hands. I picked up my pace, going as fast as I could without running.
Feeling suddenly sober, I pushed through the club's front doors, storming across the dark parking lot. It never crossed my mind that it would be Maddox. I hadn't even seen him there.
"Wait," he slurred again, stumbling behind me. He probably wouldn't remember any of this in the morning. I hoped he wouldn't remember any of this in the morning.
"Maddox," Chance's voice boomed from behind me. Chance had followed us. I stopped spinning to see him. "You're trashed. Go home."
"Coach," Maddox said, his smile fading like he knew his plans were about to be squashed. "I'm fine."
"Go home, Maddox," Chance warned. "Or your entire team will do burpees at 6 a.m. because of you." I didn't know what a burpee was, but it was obvious he didn't want to be responsible for that.
Maddox's gaze flicked to me, and I dropped my chin, hoping between the darkness, an abundance of alcohol, and hiding my face, he wouldn't recognize me.
Maddox threw up his hands. "Fine."
"Have someone take you home," Chance yelled as he watched Maddox leave before stepping up to me. "That was quite the show you put on out there." Chance laughed, but there was no humor in his tone. He was jealous.
"It wasn't a show," I lied, offering him my most innocent smile. "I was dancing."
"Let's go," he groaned, wrapping his fingers around my upper arm. "I'm taking you home."
"Oh no," I gasped dramatically, using my free hand to press my palm flat against my chest. "Can't do that; someone might see you." I was being melodramatic, but it was hard dating someone you had to hide; having a relationship, you couldn't put labels on because if you did, someone could lose their job. He was my boyfriend only in the privacy of my home. When he left, we were both single.
"Would you shut up?" he growled under his breath, dragging me to his truck. I had become the girl I hated. The loud, annoying drunk girl. "I'm only taking my drunk employee home. No more, no less."
"Whatever you say, Boss." I hiccupped a laugh. He slammed my door and jogged to his side, quickly jumping in. "Are you going to punish me?" Apparently, I wasn't as sober as I thought. We'd been dating for two years, and I'd never talked to him like that before, but I'd also never attempted to make anyone jealous either. This whole Maddox situation was making me a crazy person.
He leaned over the center console, twisting his fingers into the front of my shirt and jerking me to him, "I'm going to remind you who you belong to," he breathed against my lips, and I suddenly forgot all about Maddox.
TWENTY-SIX
ADDISON
When I awoke the next morning, Chance was gone. Even though I'd hoped he wouldn't be, I knew the drill, and this was how it would be as long as I was a student. I didn't like it, but I accepted it.
