“These floors are gross you know,” he says falling into step beside me. “Beer, gum, puke…”
“You want me to dance with you, this is how you’re getting me.”
“With puke covered feet?”
“Uh huh.” I glance up at him, a grin in my eyes.
“Whatever way I can get you, Tru,” he murmurs.
I don’t look at him … can’t look at him.
I’m not sure whether he meant me to hear that comment in the noise of the music or not, so for now I’m pretending I didn’t.
He takes hold of my hand again and veers off, leading me away from the tiny VIP dance floor, and down the stairs, leading us straight toward the main dance floor downstairs.
This is more like it.
I look over my shoulder and see Dave shaking his head, looking exasperated, following quickly in our wake. I’m guessing Jake pulls this stuff on a regular basis. It must frustrate Dave that Jake doesn’t count his personal safety as something high on his list. Makes his job a lot harder.
And in this moment he reminds me of the rebellious teenager he used to be. The rebellious teenagers we used to be together.
Before he left me behind.
I tread carefully down the stairs behind Jake, regretting leaving my shoes now, in case of broken glass or getting my toes trodden on. But as we move downwards, heading into the masses, Jake doesn’t have to push his way through the people crowding the stairs. They just seem to automatically move for him, like he’s commanding them to with his sheer presence alone.
It’s a lot weird, and also a little awesome.
And at least there is also no danger of anyone getting close enough to tread on my feet.
“You’re short without your heels on,” he says, turning to me, as he hits the bottom step, leaving us a little closer to eye level.
“Yeah and you’re a selfish prick.”
Whoa! Where the hell did that come from, Tru?
“What?” He looks taken aback and pissed off.
Can’t say I blame him really.
But if I’m being honest, I know where that came from. I’m a little angry with him. I’ve felt it simmering away under the surface all night. It started back at the show at the serenade.
The moment he started singing to me I felt a huge, heady mixture of lust and anger, and it lanced through me and straight in his direction.
Okay, so if I’m going with total honesty here … I’m pissed at him because he’s made me want him tonight.
And I don’t just mean I want in his pants. I mean I want him - want him. I want him to be mine.
I know it’s stupid and irrational, and I’m with Will, but I can’t help the way I feel.
He’s Jake.
I’ve loved him for a long time. But this, here now, what I feel inside for him … it’s like a fire is burning inside me, and I don’t foresee a way to put it out anytime soon.
And I’m not exactly in a position to be able to douse that fire named Jake.
I’m also currently in a position where I have to spend an inordinate amount of time with him. A position he put me in.
It’s the worst kind of torture.
So yeah, I’m feeling a little pissed at him, and for some reason it’s decided to make an appearance now, here on the steps of this club, surrounded by hundreds of people.
It’s just … he serenaded me for God’s sake! How the hell am I supposed to recover from that?
“You heard,” I say standing tall. “You serenaded, and outed me in front of two hundred people.”
“Outed you?” he gives an amused look, but I can tell behind the fa?ade, he’s still a little pissed off.
Of course it only manages to annoy further.
“You told everyone my name and I like my anonymity, Jake, and not to become the subject of your groupies hate chat.”
“Okay…”
“And you sang a song like ‘Through It All’ to me.”
He looks at me puzzled. “But I thought you liked the song? You said it’s your favourite out of all the songs I’ve ever written.”
“It is, and I do love it. But that’s not the point. It’s an inappropriate song to sing it to me – I have a boyfriend.”
He steps back a little and a tiny frown sets on his face. “It’s not like I was dry humping you on stage, Tru.”
“I know but–”
“Of course it can be arranged if you want. I’ll be only more than happy to dry hump you on stage, or in private, you know whatever suits, just let me know.”
And there he is. It’s like a bloody affliction with him.
“Arrghh! Stop with the constant flirting!” I put my hand to my head frustrated.
He frowns for real now. “The flirting bothers you?”
“Yes!”
“I thought you liked it.”
“No. I don’t.”
“Okay.” He scrunches his brow up. “Look, song and flirting aside.” He steps closer to me. It muggy’s my thoughts up. “Have I done something else to upset you, Tru?”
Yes, you’ve made it almost impossible for me to not want you. And now I’m confused and wanting you, and worried if I dance with you that I might do something stupid, like make a move on you, and ruin our friendship when you of course reject me, and I’ll also quite possibly screw things with Will up.