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Until Matt Sloan approached and asked Bella if she wanted to dance. She brightened and nodded before waving us goodbye and following him onto the floor. The four of us who remained tightened the gap she’d made with her departure and moved closer together.
“She’s a good dancer,” Bentley commented after a moment of watching Bella and Matt together.
“Well, she took dance classes with Chloe for, like, five years,” Gracen reminded her. “So she better be.”
“Why didn’tyouever take any classes with them?” Beau wondered, nudging Bentley’s arm.
“Me?” She looked up at him, her eyes widening. “Oh, I don’t dance.”
He looked a little crestfallen. “Ever?”
Gray snorted. “Then why did you come tonight?”
Bentley was looking cornered, and I could see Caine across the room with his friends.
Wanting to save her from further uncomfortable questions but also wanting to move closer to him—because if I was right there within his perimeters, it’d be easier for him to ask me to dance—I broke into the conversation, pointing. “Let’s go over there.”
“Uh…okay.” Gracen shrugged and started that way, not questioning my suggestion. The rest of us followed him like ducklings who couldn’t be separated from their brood.
We came up toward another part of the dance floor, almost directly behind Caine and his group. When Gracen glanced at me, his eyebrows lifted in question, I nodded my approval, and he stopped there.
Bentley leaned toward me and whispered, “OMG, he’sright…there.”
“I know. Shh,” I hissed at her from the side of my mouth, slapping at her to keep quiet.
She squeezed my arm and grinned encouragingly.
And the four of us inadvertently began to listen in on that group’s conversation as we continued to watch Bella dance with Matt.
“Did you see who Hamilton came with tonight?” one of the guys was saying. “Lucky bastard. Youknowhe’s getting some tonight.”
Bentley and I glanced at each other to roll our eyes in unison as someone else snorted. “Forget that. Did you get a load of Chloe Ryan? Her dress is so tight it looks like someone had to roll her in butter first to get her into it.”
As my ears began to ring in utter embarrassment, Bentley grabbed my hand and squeezed hard. But I didn’t squeeze back. My face was burning flame hot, and I was trying not to expire on the spot.
Then, it happened. Caine Spinnaker snorted in amusement before he added, “Butter makes sense since it looks like she’s related to the Pillsbury Doughboy.”
As all his friends laughed, my heart freaking shattered.
It was one thing to overhear people slamming you; it was quite another to hear your ultimate crush leading the burn.
“Son of a bitch,” Gray breathed, glancing at my face in worry, just as Beau stepped toward the group of guys.
“What did you just say, motherfucker?” he demanded.
My band of mockers looked up in surprise. “Huh?” Caine sounded confused, probably because he hadn’t yet seen me standing right there behind them, even though one wouldthinkthe Pillsbury Doughboy would be hard to miss.
“You don’t talk about Chloe like that,” Beau demanded threateningly. “Ever.”
Frowning, Caine lifted his hands and shifted backward, even as he snarled, “Hey, why don’t you mind your own business and get out of my face?”
“Sure,” Beau answered, only taking another stepintohis face. “As soon as you apologize to Chloe.” Then he nudged Caine in the chest, pushing him. “Right now.”
“Beau!” Bentley gasped in warning, but he was too busy getting surrounded by all of Caine’s pals.
As they squeezed in on him, Gracen popped forward to support his buddy.
The verbal argument continued until their puffed-up boy bravado ended with Beau swinging at Caine’s face, which started a full-fledged punching brawl.
