15 #3
Hmm, after the argument I overheard between him and Aegan, I wasn’t surprised. He was probably still pissed off.
“Have you ever wondered if Aegan and him are close?” I asked.
“Well, that’s what it looks like, right?” she said, doubtful, and then made a face. “Maybe Adrik . . . I can’t quite figure him out. Nobody can.”
If anybody knew what it was like to be angry with the world, it was me. I knew that’s what was going on with him. Something had happened to make him so angry, something that had to do with Aegan, but I still couldn’t figure out if it also involved Eli.
My fabulous boyfriend came over to us, so I didn’t say anything else. He was holding a glass of whiskey. He was wickedly handsome—of course he was. And my God, did he know it.
“Can you give us a minute?” he said to Artie.
Although he sounded polite, it was still rude of him, especially since Artie was my friend. I was just about to tell him off, but she shot him a stern look and then disappeared into the crowd. Aegan hated her; that much was obvious.
“You like being mean to her, don’t you?” I complained. “Don’t do it again.”
“I’m the one who tells people what to do around here,” he said, without batting an eye.
He put the glass down on the nearest table and, to my surprise, offered me his hand. I shifted my gaze back and forth between his open palm and his face, with arched eyebrows.
“What?”
“Let’s dance.”
I blinked. He wanted me to dance? With him? Aegan? Was this really happening or had I died of boredom earlier without realizing?
“Do you want to stick something on my back that says ‘kick me’ or something?” I said, not trusting him.
He rolled his eyes and, before I could even agree, he grabbed my hand and guided me toward the dance floor where other couples swayed.
He slid a hand onto my waist and drew me in, close enough that my chest brushed against his and my forehead was basically touching his nose.
The scent of his expensive aftershave filled my nostrils as he leaned in, his lips drifting closer to my ear.
“No,” he said, answering my previous question. If I had to play along then I would.
As if by magic—or because he’d planned it—the DJ played Michael Bublé’s version of “Quando Quando Quando.” And then he started leading me through a dance.
Wow, Aegan, wow. His steps, and the way he guided me to the beat, made it clear he knew what he was doing.
It was confident and elegant. Of course, he stood out, which meant I did too, and suddenly all eyes were on us.
That didn’t bother him at all. I, meanwhile, who at least knew how to dance (don’t worry, I didn’t make a fool of myself), could barely believe we were doing something so cliché.
Were we really dancing like a normal couple?
To this cheesy song? Why? Just because? This couldn’t be happening . . .
“Listen,” he whispered suddenly into my ear, trying not to move his lips so people wouldn’t make out what he was saying. “The photos they’re going to take of us now are a really big deal. Try to make it look like you’re smitten.”
I spotted a photographer among the curious onlookers watching as we danced, but no photos were being taken.
Everything was starting to make sense. I stopped acting surprised.
“Ah, you need something,” I responded with a smile, relieved to have seen through him but wanting to get a rise out of him. “And there I was thinking you wanted to dance with me so you could get up close to me.”
His smile brushed against my ear. I could feel his steady and calm breath, which was that of someone who had everything under control.
“Have I got this right?” he asked, almost like he was flirting. “Maybe you want me to touch you, Derry? Do you want to spend the night with me? Although it wouldn’t be very romantic because that’s not my style . . .”
“Oh, what is your style then?” I played along, as if intrigued. “Let me guess: rough.”
“More like a night to remember,” he corrected me.
Good comeback. He would’ve undoubtedly melted any other girl’s heart, especially with the magnetic, effortless confidence behind every word that came out of his mouth. There was no doubt about it. If I was anyone else, Aegan would have probably made me wet with nothing more than a wink.
“Wow, that’s exactly what I want,” I lied.
“Well, with the way you look tonight, maybe it isn’t such a bad idea,” he said.
I raised my eyebrows and looked into his eyes. The cunning, proud, and malicious glint shone in those almost translucent gray eyes of his. It was incredible how he could laugh at everything. He’d make a brilliant villain in a film.
“Let me get this straight, Cash,” I said, using his strategy with the same mischievousness. “I think you might actually like me.”
“I like how you look right now.” He shrugged slightly.
“You’re not answering my question,” I responded. “You don’t even like me a teeny tiny bit, Aegan?”
I was dying to hear what he’d say. But he always found a clever way to sidestep things.
He spun me around like a pro. He wrapped his arms around my waist, guiding me to sway gently from side to side with him.
It was a delicate and tender step, though all I could think of was that my back was pressing against his chest, his pelvis was against my ass, and his lips were brushing my ear.
I felt oddly fragile, caught in his embrace, like he could break me in half if he held me a little tighter.
Right in front of us, I spotted the photographer getting ready to take the perfect shot.
“Smile for the camera,” Aegan ordered.
The flash went off, blinding me for a minute. I expected him to spin me around to keep dancing, but instead, he leaned in and whispered something that I could barely make out, but it sounded dangerous.
“I’d love to spend the night with you, if you still want to after the party, of course . . .”
He spun me around once more, courteously bowing as if bidding farewell, and then headed off to grab his glass of whiskey before continuing to mingle with the party guests.
Of course, he’d already gotten what he wanted from me, so he left me standing there, still intrigued by what he’d just said to me.
If I was still up for it? What did that mean?
Oh, I really didn’t know what I was in for.
A few hours later, bored out of my mind and listening to people gush over the Cash patriarch, it was finally time for the big toast.