Chapter 14
Bras hung from the ceiling and tourists were packed tightly into the beach-front club of Flora-Bama. Willa had been here before. In college, she and a few girlfriends came down for Spring Break and spent most of their days here—and a few godforsaken nights. But that was years ago.
Fortunately, she didn’t feel out of place. There were people of all ages at the club—one group was celebrating a twenty-first birthday, another celebrating a bachelorette party, and another group of women that had to be in their fifties. When they’d arrived, Amanda immediately ordered the three of them Bushwackers, a dangerous drink made with five different types of alcohol and chocolate ice cream, even though it only tasted like a chocolate milkshake if you’d had enough to drink. Willa sipped on hers and took in the view around her. The bass thumped loudly—some pop song she vaguely recognized—and people were swaying to the tune of the music.
“So what now?” Willa shouted over the music to Amanda.
“Pick one.”
“What?”
“Pick a guy you want to hook up with.”
Willa bit her lip, then turned back toward the dance floor, scanning through the crowd of people. Finally, her eyes landed on a guy that didn’t remind her of Leo or Shawn. He was about 5’10”, if she had to guess, and had a buzz cut, a sharp jawline, and tattoos all over his arms. He was wearing shorts and an unbuttoned Hawaian shirt, showcasing his abs.
“Nice,” Amanda said, following her eyes. “Solid choice. He’s definitely a tourist. Won’t be calling you tomorrow trying to take you home to mom.”
Willa chuckled. “Okay, so what’s next, O Wise One?”
“Careful. I might just get used to that nickname,” Amanda grinned. “Now, look at him.”
“I’m looking.”
“Just wait. He’ll feel your gaze in a second.”
Willa felt like an idiot.
“This is dumb.”
“Trust the process.”
Willa continued staring at him, feeling herself wonder why Amanda didn’t tell her to just go over there and say hello. Her eyes started to water, and she felt the desire to look away. The guy was good-looking, but she didn’t want to study him the way she wanted to study Shawn.
“Much better, keep that smolder going,” Amanda said. “You looked like you wanted to murder him for a second there. Now you look like you’re thinking about sex.”
Well, fuck. Of course she had fuck-me eyes when she was thinking about Shawn. Suddenly, Buzz Cut turned to face her.
“Smile at him,” Amanda whispered out of her mouth, then amended what she said after Willa gave him a toothy grin. “Damn girl, take it back a notch. I meant a soft smile. Like a come hither look. It’s a good thing you have great tits because you’re shit at this.”
Willa softened her smile and resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Amanda. Buzz Cut smirked at her and said a few words to the people he was with before making his way toward Willa.
“Hey, Red,” he said. “Wanna dance?”
God, she hated when people came up with unoriginal nicknames for her. Especially Red. She was teased for her red hair when she was little. She’d been called everything in the book, and of course, disgusting men loved to ask if the carpet matched the drapes. Willa loved her red hair, but people’s fixation on it tended to air on the weird side.
But this guy was hot, and the goal was to dance and maybe make out with a stranger. So she nodded, and as he turned around, she whispered to Amanda, “Is it always this easy?”
“Everyone’s easy at this place,” Amanda said with the sage wisdom of a practiced seductress.
Willa followed after Buzz Cut, and as they got to the center of the dance floor, they started swaying to the rhythm of the music. She had to admit, he was a good dancer. He knew what he was doing, which was nice for her, because as a yoga instructor and former ballerina, she did, too.
After the first song ended, he came behind her and started grinding. Even though it made her feel like a horny teenager, she had to admit, it was honestly kind of fun. She continued sipping her drink and grinding with him. She closed her eyes to the music and lifted her arms in the air, feeling her buzz get stronger. Several songs passed, and he got more bold: putting his hands on her hips, running them along her sides, burying his face in her neck. It felt nice to be touched by a man, even if his fingers were too soft for her to pretend like it was Shawn touching her.
A few songs passed and she looked at Amanda, raising her brows in question. Amanda only smirked back at her—extremely unhelpful. So she excused herself and told Buzz Cut she needed to run to the restroom, realizing she still didn’t know his name.
Willa tossed a beckoning look toward Amanda and felt her and Layla follow as she headed to the bathroom. There were a few other women in there—some waiting in line for the bathroom, a couple touching up their makeup, and one girl who was running her hair under the sink.
“Someone spilled their bushwhacker all over my head,” she said miserably as Willa gave her an inquisitive glance.
“Damn, that sucks,” Willa said, then turned toward the rest of her trio. “So what now? Are you two just going to watch me all night?”
“I don’t do dancing with strangers,” Layla said, her cheeks reddening. “Not since college, anyway. I’m perfectly happy to watch you.”
“And I’m afraid if I don’t supervise, you’re going to overthink it like you are now and not get what you need tonight,” Amanda said. “Look, are you having fun?”
“Honestly?” Willa thought about it for a minute. “Yeah. I am.”
“Do you feel safe?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to go back out there?”
“Yes, I just?—”
“Have you stopped thinking about your hot neighbor?”
Willa pressed her lips together. “Mostly.”
“I’ll take that as a win.” Amanda sighed. “Listen, just go back out there and keep dancing with him. Let him make the moves. He’ll probably initiate kissing you or ask you to go back to his place. The ball is in your court, Willa. Turn him down if you’re not feeling it. But you deserve to have some fun.”
Layla nodded.
“I know it’s none of my business,” said the girl washing her hair in the sink, “but your friend is right. Plus, you’re like, stupid hot and you have a killer rack.”
God, Willa loved women’s restrooms at clubs.
“Okay. I can do this.”
“You can do this,” Amanda confirmed.
“Well, now that I’m here, I actually do have to go to the bathroom.”
Amanda and Layla left, and Willa got in line for the toilets. She absentmindedly pulled her phone out and noticed Shawn had sent her a few more texts. The first was about an hour ago.
Grams wanted me to tell you that she says hi.
He’d included a picture of Grams sitting in front of the TV with knitting in hand, grinning like Shawn had just told her a good joke.
Then 30 minutes later:
She somehow roped me into watching Mamma Mia with her. It’s actually pretty good.
And just a few minutes ago:
At the risk of sounding overbearing, I just wanted to check in and make sure you have a designated driver.
Rather than text him back, Willa decided she wanted to call him. It was possibly the buzz she had going that made her feel that way. It rang twice before he picked up.
“Willa?”
“How’s Mamma Mia?” she asked.
“One of the older ladies is singing a song right now,” he said. “The fancy one.”
“‘Does Your Mother Know?’” Willa responded, grinning. “Classic.”
“How are you?”
“I was dancing with a guy at Flora-Bama,” she said. “But now I’m in the bathroom.”
Was she trying to make him jealous? Willa knew she was. She was buzzed and slightly bolder than usual and wanted to see how he’d react. The line went silent.
“Anyway, don’t worry about me,” she continued when he said nothing. “I have a ride home.”
She was now next to go in line for the bathroom, and Shawn still hadn’t responded to her.
“Are you there?” she asked.
Willa was beginning to get frustrated, and she only had herself to blame for pushing. She wasn’t playing fair and she knew it.
A bathroom opened up, and she decided to put him out of his misery.
“Well, it’s my turn to go to the bathroom,” she said. “And by the way, it’s not overbearing. Thanks for checking in. I… honestly, I like that you’re looking after me.”
Then, before she could say anything else she’d regret, she hung up and went to the bathroom.
Shawn stood frozenon the back porch, trying to digest everything he’d heard. She’d been dancing with another guy, and he had no right to feel the jealousy coursing through him. She wasn’t his. She wasn’t even his fuck buddy, though she’d basically offered herself on a silver platter for him. She was just his neighbor. His friend. He didn’t have any claim to her.
But also.
I like that you’re looking after me.
Fuck, those words were almost enough to melt the ice-cold jealousy she’d pierced him with earlier in the conversation.
Before he knew what he was doing, he barged back inside with such force that he startled Grams enough for her to pause the movie.
“Where’s the fire, Scooby?”
“Willa needs a ride,” he called over his shoulder.
He heard Grams chuckle and turn the movie back on before he grabbed his keys and bolted to his truck. On a busy night, it would be about a 40-minute drive. He was ready to push traffic laws to get there in 30. And every single one of those 30 minutes was agonizingly slow. He didn’t really know what he was doing, just that he needed to see her. Needed to be near her. Needed to make sure she got home safe.
He got to Flora-Bama shortly after 11 p.m., and it was crowded and rowdy. He forgot how many damn rooms there were in this godforsaken place. He started out in one of the smaller rooms, scanning the tipsy crowd for red hair. When he didn’t see any, he moved on. Scanned the next room. Nothing.
He was considering going to check the outdoor areas or head upstairs when he entered the room with the bras on the ceiling. Her red hair shined bright under the neon flashing lights, and her arms were up in the air as she swayed to the music. His heart stuttered at the sight of her, and the tips of his mouth turned up in the beginnings of a smile.
Until he saw the man behind her. Grinding with her. Hands roaming. Face buried in her hair.
It was like he’d jumped into a bucket of ice. Why had he come here? What delusions did he have about showing up? Did he think she’d just throw herself at him, melt in his arms?
He couldn’t look away from her, though. Her body swayed with so much grace, he could tell she’d been an incredible ballerina. Suddenly she looked in his direction and her mouth opened in an O shape as their eyes met. He saw her lips mouth his name, and she stopped dancing for a brief moment.
The guy she was dancing with apparently took that as an invitation, because he tipped her chin toward him and claimed her mouth.
Shawn’s feet carried him over to them before he could register what was happening.
“Get off her,” he growled.
“Woah man,” the guy Willa locked lips with responded, raising his hands, palms forward. “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”
“I don’t,” Willa said, looking at Shawn in equal parts confusion and dismay.
“Whatever,” the guy said, looking annoyed. “You’re hot and I had fun dancing with you, but I don’t want to get in the middle of whatever this is.”
Willa crossed her arms and looked at Shawn.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed.
“You want to dance with a guy?” Shawn said. “Dance with me.”
He grabbed Willa’s hips and spun her so her backside was against his crotch. She yelped at the sudden movement and he clenched her hips, swinging to the beat of the music. She was stiff for a moment before she slowly started moving again, and a minute or two later, she was dancing the way she had been when he arrived.
And Shawn was overwhelmed with lust. It was a struggle to keep his hands in one place. He desperately wanted to run them up and down her sides, to palm her tits, to run a hand through her hair.
But he kept them firmly on her hips, instead focusing on the sensation of her perfect ass riding up against his dick. He was getting hard and he knew she could feel it; she started leaning against him even more, tipping her head back and closing her eyes, hands raised in bliss.
“Were you trying to make me jealous, Greene?” Shawn whispered in her ear, succumbing to the urge to let his hands wander. He reached up and dragged a finger along her cheek before nipping at her earlobe. “Because you succeeded. I’m sporting a hard-on in this fucking club because you made me so damn jealous, and I can’t stop thinking about your ass cheeks hugging my dick.”
She bit her lip, and he felt her thighs clench.
“Is this what you wanted to happen?” Shawn asked, continuing as desire coursed through him. He pressed a kiss to her neck, and she shivered. “Did you want to make me so fucking pissed with jealousy that I drove down here to hold you like this and kiss that perfect neck?”
He ran his tongue up to her ear and grazed his teeth along it.
“You’re a fucking fantasy, Greene. All I want to do is pull this damn dress down and suck on your tits and tongue your pussy ‘til you come all over my face. Want to taste every last inch of you. Want to feel you clench around my dick.”
Willa turned around, wrapped her arms around his neck, and tugged him down for a kiss. Shawn was startled for only a moment, then grabbed her lower back with his left hand and her cheek with his right, loving the sensation of her messy, needy kisses.
The thrum of the bass and the people dancing around them disappeared. All that was left was Willa.
Her perfect lips.
The feel of her body rubbing against his.
Her fingers tugging through his hair, pulling him closer.
She was warm and wet and perfect.
And he was going to come in his pants if she kept going like this, but he didn’t care. Willa pulled out of the kiss and, panting, looked at him through half-lidded eyes.
“Take me home,” she said.