AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He moves in closer and keeps dancing. This is what Ian wanted me to do, right? I guess I can dance with him while I wait for Ian to get back. He’s alright-looking and smells pretty good. Not as good as Ian. But not terrible.
He moves closer again, and his hand finds my hip. I just keep dancing, smiling, and it’s nice. He’s nice. I take a steadying breath, then before I can chicken out, I throw my arms around his neck, bringing us even closer. He smiles down at me, big blue eyes sparkling in the flashing lights of the club. Both his hands are on my waist, and it’s okay. It’s fun. Like dancing with an aunt at a wedding, nothing more.
“You’re a great dancer,” he says, barely audible over the blasting music.
“Thanks, you are…” I don’t get to finish because he mashes our faces together. It’s nothing like when I kiss Ian. No sparks, no fire. And when this guy’s tongue tries to slide into my mouth, I pull away.
“Sorry, gotta go,” I say, then turn and practically run from the dancefloor.
Where’s Ian? I check the bathrooms, but he’s not there. He’s not at the bar either. He said he’d be right back.
I grab my phone to call him and find a text.
IAN: Sorry, splitting headache. Looked like you were having fun, didn’t want to interrupt.
What the fuck? Did he seriously just leave me here? A pang hits my chest, and I make a beeline for the door. How could he just leave me? I check the message time. It was only sent a few minutes ago. Shit, did he see that guy kiss me? I didn’t want him to. I didn’t even like it. The only part of tonight that was any fun at all was dancing with Ian. None of the other guys in this placedid anything for me. At least that answers that question. It’s not guys I’m into. It’s Ian. Just Ian. Now I have to catch up to him and make him see that.
Chapter twenty
Ian
The second I sawhim dancing with that guy, I knew I made a huge mistake. Then he kissed him, and I just ran, sending him a lame text about a fake headache. It was all I could think to do. It wasn’t my proudest moment.
***
I wake up early and get ready as quietly as I can. I have no idea if he’s up yet either, but I do know that last night was not cool. I shouldn’t have run, no matter how hard it was to watch him with that guy. I slowly open the bedroom door and relief floods my chest when I see his door is still closed, and he’s not up.
Making a beeline for the main door, I head down to grab us both a coffee. It in no way will make up for my terrible behavior last night, but it might give me some fucking balls to fess up about the headache and tell him why I really left last night.
The smell of coffee hits my nose the second I step through the reception doors outside. A cafe, only a few doors up, is already clustered with people, and I join the line and wait, the crispmorning air helping to settle my nerves or at least numb me to them.
The guy in front of me puts his phone to his ear. He tilts his head to one side, then to the other, making a cracking noise that sends a chill up my spine.
“Can you call through to Brendan Grant’s room, please?” the guy in front then says, pulling my full attention. He’s tall and wide and smells fucking good, like chocolate and some kind of wood.
There’s a pause, then he says, “Carter.”
I rack my brain trying to think if this is the guy he kissed last night, but I can’t see him properly, and I didn’t get that good a look at him last night in the dim light of the club.
The line moves forward, and I take a step, trying to stay close enough to hear him but not so close he can tell I’m trying to listen in.
“Good morning, I thought after last night we could have coffee,” Carter says, and he has to be talking to Brendan now. Is this the guy from last night? Shit, did he bring this guy back with him? No, if he did, why would he be down here getting coffee? He’d still be in the room, right?
“I’m downstairs grabbing it now. Meet me at reception in a few minutes.”
He hangs up and slips the phone into his back pocket, then takes a step forward, orders, and moves to the side.
“What will you have?” the woman asks me, but my brain isn’t connecting to my mouth, and I just stare at her like she’s speaking another language.
“Hun, if you don’t know what you want…” the woman starts, but I shake my head.
“Sorry, no, ummm, I’ll just have a large black coffee, please.”
“No problem. Name?”
“Ian.”
She nods, and I move over to where Carter is waiting. What kind of name is Carter, anyway? The old guy now at the counter drops his cane, and it clatters to the ground. Before I can even move, Carter is there, grabbing it from the floor and helping the old man to a seat after he pays for his coffee. What is he, like a super good Samaritan or something? I guess I can see the appeal if you like them… big. It’s never really been my thing.
