Stage one, part B: doing a bump and grind on the dance floor. We formed a train as we maneuvered our way to the center. There, Kat somehow forced everyone else to take a few steps back, leaving us in our own private circle. Anyone watching from the top floor would be unable to miss us.
Unlike Emma, I had no idea how to dance gracefully. Or attractively. But I watched the way the other girls moved their arms and hips and mimicked them. I must have succeeded, because all four offered me smiles of encouragement.
After what seemed an eternity of this I motioned Kat over, and when she reached me, I said, “I don’t actually want Cole to spy on me. I want him to talk to me.”
“Oh, he will. But listen, whatever you do,” she said, moving behind me and placing her hands on my hips, “don’t look up. I’m about to enact stage two. Stage three will commence soon after that, with no more action required on our part, so be ready.”
With a force of will I hadn’t known I possessed, I glanced at her over my shoulder rather than at the boys. “I want this to happen, but I have a bad feeling about how we’re going about it.”
“Good. I know I’m on the right track. So, here we go!” Like the sex kitten I was beginning to think she was, Kat spun around me and crooked her finger at a group of ultracute random guys.
Stage two: fanning the flames of jealousy.
The guys eagerly joined our little circle. Within minutes, masculine hands were roaming, and soft bodies were bumping into hard bodies. I was uncomfortable and embarrassed, and actually had to slap a boy’s fingers away from my butt, but I kept dancing, determined to see Kat’s plan through to the end. Not once did I look in Cole’s direction.
When I noticed that Reeve’s expression was as pinched as mine probably was, I twirled my way to her side—yes, I’m lame—allowing us to concentrate on each other.
Even though one of the boys maintained a station behind her, she offered me a relieved smile.
Finally, I begin to lose myself in the music. My arms lifted over my head, and my eyes closed. I swayed, spun—and smacked into a hard chest. Boys! I swear. I peered up, ready to tell whichever guy had decided to come after me to back off. I—
I never should have doubted Kat.
Violet eyes glared down at me, barely leashed aggression in their depths. Hard hands settled on my waist, jerking me closer…closer…until only a whisper separated us.
The words back off never formed. And, shockingly enough, neither did a vision.
“Let’s dance,” he said.
“You dance?” I squeaked. Gotta get that under control, Bell. Adrenaline fizzed in my veins. This boy exhilarated me in a way I’d never before known.
From the corner of my eye, I saw that Frosty had taken over Kat’s personal space. They were arguing and kissing, arguing and kissing. A boy I hadn’t met was positioned in front of Reeve, and when he wasn’t scowling at her, he was scowling at Bronx, who was backing the random cuties away from us. He looked ready to murder anyone who protested.
No one protested.
Other boys from Cole’s group were attempting to dance with Poppy and Wren, but the girls ignored them, turning away.
Cole cupped my cheeks and brought my gaze back to him. “Why wouldn’t I dance?”
Uh, maybe because at first glance he looked like he ate puppies for breakfast and kittens for lunch? As for what he enjoyed having for dinner—that couldn’t be discussed in polite company.
“Because you think it’s dumb?” The words emerged as a question rather than the statement I’d meant them to be.
“Something that allows a guy to put his hands all over a girl isn’t dumb. It’s genius.”
As he tugged me ever closer, I muttered, “I don’t know about this.”
“Then I’ll convince you. Now put your arms around me.”
“Orders again.” But you know what? I obeyed him. I even walked my fingers up his spine and sifted them into his soft, silky hair. I just couldn’t help myself. Touching him was a compulsion.
His pupils expanded, black overshadowing all that beautiful purple. “Most people are so afraid of me they jump to obey the moment I speak.”
Just a guess, but most people hadn’t imagined his tongue inside their mouth. “I’m not most people.”
“I know. What I don’t know is why you’re here.”
His stinging tone told me far more than his words. I wasn’t welcome. “I wanted to try something new,” I said, lifting my chin. I wouldn’t mention my plans to chat with him. Yet. Just then, I had to convince myself there were three things I would not allow him to do. 1) Embarrass me. 2) Intimidate me. Or 3) Send me running.
His frown was less dark and more confused. “What’s new for you? Dancing?”
And so much more, but all I said was, “Yes.”
“And you let some strange college boy grind all over you for your first time? That’s stupid, Ali.”
Not going to be embarrassed, not going to be embarrassed. “First, he wasn’t grinding on me, and second, you’re no better than him.”
A solid minute of silence, then “You are terrible for my ego, you know that?”
I could say the same to him.
“But I can’t seem to stay away,” he added.