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“You were having fun,” he says. “You should keep having fun.”
He’s right.Fuckthat guy. I’m going to keep having a good time. I grab Flynn’s hands, looking up into his blue eyes. “Dance with me?”
Flynn laughs, his voice cracking. “I’m a bad dancer.”
“Everyone’s drunk. We’re all bad dancers,” I reply and grab his hand. “Please? Would make me feel safer.” It’s only a half-truth. It would make me feel safer.
But it’s not why I want him to dance with me.
Flynn looks around the club and puffs up his chest. “Okay.”
I smile and put his hand on my waist. His touch is electric. Or maybe it’s the tequila. Whatever it is, it feels amazing. “Just follow my lead.”
He chuckles. “I can do that.”
And he does. All it takes is a couple of seconds to get into the groove of the music before the two of us are working the floor, closer and closer until our chests are pressed together. Flynn isn’t as bad as he’d warned me. In fact, once he gets out of his head, he’s got a few steps in him, spinning me around and gyrating his hips.
We laugh as we weave in and out of each other on the floor. I forget about everyone else. It’s just me and Flynn and our fake relationship that’s starting to feel a crumb more real every moment.
Flynn grabs my hand. “I’m gonna spin you out, ready?”
“Oh god, I might fall!” I cry out, but it’s too late. He flicks me out away from him and I spin out onto the floor, nearly tripping over my own feet. Flynn’s grip is tight and sure, though. He swings me right back into him so my back is up against his chest and…
I can feel him through his pants, a slight bulge at my back. Is this for real? Is he…turned on?
“What am I going to do with you, Stella?” he asks, hot tequila breath on my face.
I tilt my head back. Seem obvious what comes next. “I think you know.”
And then he kisses me.
Flynn Madden kisses me.
And not just a kiss for show. A real kiss. A kiss that says, “I want more.”
For once he didn’t question me. Didn’t argue with me. He just did it.
I slide my hand around the back of his head, drawing him further into me.
Fuck it. If he’s my fake boyfriend, then I’m going to act like it.
Consequences be damned.
Chapter 9
Flynn
Iblinkmyeyesopen to find a mess of brown curls crowding my vision. Somehow, my vision is perfectly clear. I must have slept in my glasses. My head pounds. God, what happened last night?
I take a deep breath and get an inhale of that hair. Smells like fruity shampoo, cigarettes, and… tequila.
The memory of last night hits me all at once. I shudder away from the scent and leap out of bed. Damn any unfolding hangover, I need to get as far away from that smell as possible. I stare down at Stella in the bed next to me. Her limbs are flung in different directions and she’s snorting lightly, mouth hanging open.
I touch my chest. I still have my shirt on. I move my hand a little lower… still have my pants on. Thank God. I can’t imagine if anything had happened, I would have had the wherewithal to put my trousers back on.
Then, my lips tingle.
We may not have had sex, but we certainly kissed. In fact, I remember kissinga lot. Even one kiss is one too many. Stella Banks istotallyoff-limits.
