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Gabby led us back through the crowd to the middle of the makeshift dance floor, where we swayed to the music. I sipped my coke and Jack in my red Solo cup, ready to lose myself for an evening.
“Phoebe! So glad you could make it!” I turned in the direction of my name.
“Anderson! Congrats on a kick ass game today.” I winked at him, the alcohol helping me loosen up. He ran his hand over his short blonde hair. Sweeping my gaze over him, I settled on his focused eyes that hadn’t left mine.
Anderson slipped his arm around my waist. “Thanks. I wish you would have been there at the game today. It would have been nice to see you in the stands cheering.”
His smile weakened my knees. Maybe it was the fact that I was horny as hell, but damn, he looked even better than he usually did.
“Sports aren’t my thing. I’ve never been to a game before, but maybe I’ll reconsider for you.” I flashed him a flirty smile.
Anderson beamed at me as we danced. The buzz of my phone broke through my thoughts, and I fished it out of my back pocket.
The color drained from my face as I read the text.
Satan:
You look gorgeous tonight.
Fear and adrenaline ripped through me, and my hand trembled as I attempted to shove my cell in my pocket again. I took a long gulp of my drink before I addressed Anderson. Is he here? I glanced around, but there were so many people, the messenger could have easily hidden behind the crowd.
“Sorry about that. What were you saying?”
Anderson’s expression flickered with curiosity. “Are you okay? I’m guessing that text message wasn’t anything good from your reaction.”
I gently grabbed his shoulder and squeezed, his muscle rippling beneath my touch.
“What reaction is that?” Dammit! I have to work on my poker face.
Anderson tipped his chin. “It’s like that, huh?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Nichols.” I winked then danced a circle around him.
“Phoebe. If something is wrong, you can talk to me.”
I moved my hips and raised my hands in the air. “I appreciate it.”
He swept his gaze down my body, watching my movements.
“Damn, you look good enough to eat.”
“Promises, promises.” I rolled my eyes, giggling.
Anderson slid his arm around my waist and pulled me against him. He leaned down, his minty breath grazing my ear as he spoke. “I can make you forget all about that message that upset you. You should let me.” He nipped my earlobe, and I arched my back, my breasts pressing against his muscular chest.
“Hang on.” Anderson released me then produced his cell and looked at the screen. “Dammit.” He stared at me with disappointment flashing across his expression. “I gotta go. I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t stop my frown. “Are you sure? We were just starting to have fun.”
He reached up and brushed my cheek with his fingertips. “Maybe another time.” His hand dropped, and he winked at me before he walked away. My eyes latched onto the muscles flexing in his long legs and ass. Yum. I really would have enjoyed that ride.
Gabby quickly took Anderson’s place, dancing with me. “You look bummed! If you haven’t noticed, there are a million hotties here. The football team is loaded with sexy bad boys.”
I laughed, trying to shrug off Anderson’s sudden departure. At least it wasn’t as awful as the Black Mamba’s exit. Maybe Anderson’s quick mood change didn’t have anything to do with me, but it sure seemed like it. He was fun and sweet in class, and I had no problem hanging out. My brows knitted together. As soon as Anderson had checked his text message, he dipped. I was making a big deal out of nothing. The last thing I wanted to do was jeopardize my growing friendship. When I was with him, I knew I was safe, and that’s exactly what I needed.
For the next couple of hours, I drank and danced with my girls as well as several guys. Each time the text message from Satan popped into my head again, I drank some more and blurred it out.
The tipsier I got, though, my two times at the Black Widow Society shadowed the idea of fucking someone else. Then, my cruel brain reminded me that the Black Mamba had left even more abruptly than Anderson had. I was beginning to wonder about the Whitmore guys.
