Chapter 16
The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead or smiling into your eyes or just staring into space.
—Marilyn Monroe
Fable
The room is small and dark, jam-packed with people. I can hardly move, it’s so crowded, but I don’t care. I’ve got my arms above my head and my hands in the air, the lights that hang over us flashing in time to the beat of the music. I’m dancing my ass off, my hair sweaty, my legs aching.
Such a great night, I’m overwhelmed with how much fun I’m having. I feel fucking fantastic.
Jen is dancing with me and she’s surprisingly good, full of an innate rhythm that encourages me to step up my game.
A group of guys crowded around us earlier, trying to get us to dance with them, but we turned in to each other, like we were on some sort of date.
I wanted to discourage them and she did, too, so thankfully we were on the same page.
We danced together, bumping and grinding against each other a little bit because she’s buzzed and so am I, though not on alcohol. For once in my life, everything feels right on track. Like nothing is standing in my way.
I’ve turned into a total cliché again. But this time I’m a positive one. I might start singing cheesy eighties anthems because I feel like nothing’s gonna stop me now and all that crap.
The guys step back and form a semicircle around Jen and me as we dance, hooting and hollering and generally acting like perverts.
We encourage them, swaying our hips, thrusting out our chests.
I’m not even dressed that sexily. I went for casual with my jeans and a cute plaid shirt I found on clearance at Target, leaving it open with a white tank underneath.
Casually cute, I guess, because who am I trying to impress? Originally, my guy wasn’t supposed to be here.
He still isn’t here.
Another song comes on, this one slow, and everyone on the floor seems to vacate all at once.
Jen and I send each other a silent message and we exit the dance floor as well, heading toward the bar.
Jen scoots her skinny ass in between a crowd of people and somehow garners the bartender’s immediate attention, ordering us both a glass of ice water.
When she finally hands me the drink I chug it, the cold water soothing my parched throat. The lights have gone completely dim as a few couples slow dance together, most of them hardly moving, their feet shuffling as they focus on groping each other instead.
I’m thankful for the break, but I also miss Drew. Seeing the dancing couples lights a deep yearning within me. We’ve been dancing for over an hour. I thought he would be here by now, so where is he?
“I need to get going soon.” Jen pushes her damp hair away from her forehead. “Is your boyfriend coming to get you or what?”
“I thought so.” I glance around the room but I can’t see anything. It’s too damn dark.
“Huh.” She sips her drink. “No way am I leaving you here alone waiting for him. I can drive you home.”
“You don’t have to—”
Jen cuts me off. “I picked you up; I can definitely take you home. Don’t worry about it.”
“Cool. Thanks.” I nod once, my shoulders stiff. I refuse to be disappointed. I also refuse to text him. He knows exactly where I’m at, so what the hell is taking him so long?
Maybe his dad called him again and needed to talk. Maybe he was going through a tough time over his dad’s anguish with the divorce and I’m being completely selfish wondering where he is. Maybe …
“Let me finish my drink and I’ll be ready to go,” Jen says, interrupting my thoughts.
“Okay.” I drain my ice water and set the glass on a nearby table, ignoring the girls sitting there, who shoot me a dirty look. Though it was probably rude, what I just did, I couldn’t care less. I’m irritable.
They’re whispering loudly, probably griping about me and hoping to catch my attention, but I ignore them. I don’t need a bunch of catty bitches’ crap tonight.
The song ends and the lights brighten, flooding the dance floor. One of the most popular songs on the charts comes blasting on and everyone heads out to the floor, including Jen and me since we got caught up in the mass wave.
“One more dance!” she shouts at me, and I nod in agreement.
The insult girls are dancing close by, shooting Jen and me rude glares, and I turn my back to them, trying my best to enjoy this last song. My nerves are shot, though. The mean girls killed my buzz and I should’ve insisted on leaving before the song started.
But Jen’s into the music, a giant smile on her face as she waves her hands in the air like she just don’t care, yo.
I smile at my own mental joke and throw my hands up in the air, mimicking her.
The music slowly starts to work its magic, taking me over until all I can feel is the pulse of the bass and the heartfelt lyrics running through my mind.
I’m about to be completely swept away with the chorus when I hear one of the mean girls gasp behind me.
“No way! Is that Drew Callahan?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I catch sight of him standing on the opposite side of the room near the door, as if he’d just entered.
He’s squinting as he scans the room, searching for me, no doubt, which sends a flutter of anticipating nerves through my body.
He looks cute as hell in a white long-sleeve shirt with a button placket at the neck, the sleeves pushed up to reveal his strong, sexy forearms. And jeans, of course, that mold to his thighs and remind me of just how muscular they are.
His hair is hanging in his eyes and he pushes it away, flicking his head in irritation.
Pressing my lips together, I want to sigh like a little schoolgirl with my first crush.
My man is so damn fine I can hardly stand it.
He still hasn’t found me, though. In fact, he looks mighty irritated as he pushes through the crowd, his gaze constantly scanning, and a warm sensation washes over me as I keep moving, my attention half on the girls gushing about Drew and watching him.
“He never goes anywhere,” one of the girls says. “God, he’s so fucking gorgeous it hurts just looking at him.”
I’m tempted to turn and scratch her eyes out, but I restrain myself. After all, I’m the one who had him naked and between my legs earlier today. Drew Callahan belongs to me.
“Oh my God, he’s looking this way!” another one screeches.
He’s staring right at me and I can feel the sizzle of his smoldering gaze from clear across the room. Tossing my hair over my shoulder, I send him a sultry smile, hoping like crazy I don’t look like a fool.
Drew sends me a delicious smile right back. But he doesn’t come toward me. I can still hear those girls going on and on about him. They need to know he’s mine. I’m desperate for them to know he’s mine.
So I watch him. And I want him. But no way am I going to approach him. He has to come and get me first.
“Your boyfriend is here!” Jen shouts in my ear.
Nodding, I never take my eyes off of him as I continue to dance to the throbbing beat. “I know!” I shout back.
“He’s looking at you like he wants to gobble you up.” Jen laughs as she moves away from me.
Heat flares between my legs. He is totally looking at me like he wants to eat me up. Unable to stand it, I crook my finger and give him the age-old sign that I want him to come to me.
“Look, he’s coming this way!” One of the mean girls screams as he makes his way across the crowded dance floor straight toward me.
I wait in breathless anticipation as he approaches.
He’s taller than most of the people here and he stands out.
Or maybe that’s because I notice no one else but him.
The way that white shirt he’s wearing stretches across his shoulders and chest. How much I love his longer hair.
The way he’s looking at me when he stops directly in front of me, his gaze dropping to my mouth for one hot, lingering moment before he lifts his lids to meet my gaze.
“Hi,” he says, but I can hardly hear him. It’s more like I have to read his lips. His sexy, gorgeous, irresistible lips.
So I loop my arms around his neck and give him a sweet kiss on that irresistible mouth. “Hi,” I whisper, my lips brushing his.
He settles those big hands on my butt and tugs me closer. I can literally hear the horrified gasps coming from the group of mean girls standing behind us, and I hang my head back and laugh triumphantly.
It feels really good to be the girl who gets the guy for once.
Drew
It took me forever to escape my apartment.
Dad called twice to gripe about Adele and whatever else she was doing.
I didn’t want to hear it. But I sensed that he needed to unload, and so I let him.
Until finally I checked the time and realized Fable was probably waiting for me at that stupid club she’s at.
She’s probably good and pissed at me for keeping her waiting, too.
I finally drive myself over there and get inside, which is no small feat.
I had to promise I was only going in to snag my girlfriend out of there and then we were leaving.
The line to get in was huge. The guy manning the door figured out who I was real quick and was a major football fan, so I lucked out.
Now I have a warm, sexy woman in my arms, smiling up at me like I’m God’s gift. She’s snug against me, her fingers playing in my hair at the nape, her body still moving to the music. Driving me out of my mind.
“I thought you weren’t going to show!” she yells at me. The music is so loud I can barely hear her.
Leaning in close, I murmur in her ear, “Sorry, my dad kept calling.”
She nods, her fragrant hair brushing against my cheek, making me inhale sharply. “I wondered if that was the case.”