Chapter 34
thirty-four
I’m sitting at the kitchen table, laptop and books spread out before me, prepared for a repeat of the previous Saturday evening, but this time I have a game plan.
The problem is Steph is cranky because I’m ditching her again.
She argues I should put the moves on Cait on my own time, not hers.
To butter her up, I reminded her she’s the one who made this happen.
Steph, not fate. She’s not immune to a little ass-kissing, though I’m still not sure if I’m in the clear.
Someone knocks at the door, and as I stand to answer it, Cait appears from her bedroom dressed like a goddess in a fire-engine red dress. She stalks toward the door in heels the same color, which make her legs look even longer, if that’s possible.
My heart seizes when it dawns on me she might have a date. In all the time she’s lived here, she’s never dressed like this, and I’ve never, ever seen her hair down. I puff up my chest, preparing for the worst-case scenario, when she opens the door.
“Hey, come on in,” Cait says in a honey-sweet voice she’s never used on me.
My gaze falls to my socks because I’m unwilling to lift my eyes to the shithead who’s going to steal her from me.
“Glad someone wants to have fun tonight,” another voice says.
My irritation multiplies when I recognize Steph’s voice. She is the shithead. I should have known.
Steph continues with the punches. “Did you know Evan ditched me tonight? He said he needed to study. Boring, right? That’s why I was so happy we could do a girls’ night.” She hugs Cait the way girls do, halfheartedly and barely touching, so as not to mess up their makeup or hair.
“Girls’ night?” I glance between the two, relieved to see it’s Steph, but pissed because I know what she’s doing. She’s deliberately stealing my chance to hang with Cait, just to get back at me. Or maybe Steph is finally going to tell Cait my secret?
With an inward grumble, I acknowledge that these two together could be disastrous. I cross my arms over my chest and scowl.
“Yeah, I decided you were right,” Cait says to me.
“That’s a first. About what?”
“About getting out and having fun.” She smooths her skintight dress, and I follow her hands sliding down her hips, wishing they were my hands, not hers.
“I didn’t realize you were capable,” I say, delivering a little jab.
“Too bad you’ll miss it.” She slips on a tiny leather jacket and tucks a sparkly purse under her arm. Balanced on high heels, the two leave, shutting the door behind them.
Now alone and with my epic plans ruined, I wildly punch at the air with both fists and groan. The mini freak-out is temporary, because I rush to regroup and call the only person who can help with my new scheme—stealing Cait back from Steph.
Clenching my cell, I wait for Steph to post her first evening selfie to social media so I can learn where they’re partying. It takes fifty-six minutes before I’ve zeroed in on their exact location. Tonight they’re at the club Crobar.
“Stalk much?” Steph asks as I appear out of a haze of fog, with roaming laser lighting and retro pop dance music blasting in the background. They’re having some kind of ’80s theme night. I can tell by the Cyndi Lauper and Billy Idol look-alikes.
When Steph spots her crush, Trevor, at my side, her eyes widen. “Damn, you’re good, Wade.”
She slinks around me, fists her hand into his collared shirt, and drags him to the dance floor. Luckily for me, Trevor happily obliges.
Cait remains sitting at their table, her smooth legs crossed and sipping a fancy drink. Except the problem now is there’s a guy hitting on her. And what’s worse? She doesn’t appear to mind. They’re far too close and giggly for my liking.
And here I thought I’d only have to get rid of Steph. I sulk at my new situation, filled with one roadblock after another. With the way Cait looks tonight, I can’t blame the guy for wanting to get to know her, but I still don’t like it.
She hasn’t seen me yet, so I settle at the bar stool next to her. They’re too engrossed in their conversation to notice me, so I listen in.
The guy says, “I’m home for the weekend from Georgetown, visiting my family . . .”
I wait for Cait to share that she attended Georgetown her freshman year, but she never does, which means she can’t be that into him. This guy is so done. With renewed confidence, I scoot closer. When I do, she spots me and flinches in surprise.
“What are you doing here?”
“I decided I needed proof.” I wave down a waitress.
“Of what?”
“Of fun. I still don’t think you’re capable.” I shrug.
She gives me her sassy head tilt, making her hair spill over her shoulders and down her chest. With it long and loose, I want run my fingers through the silky strands and tug.
“Then you’re just in time,” she shoots back as she sets her froufrou drink on the cocktail table. “You can watch me and my new friend, Wyatt.”
“It’s Zack, actually. Zack Taylor,” the guy says.
She gives him a guilty glance and clears her throat. “Right, sorry. You can watch as Zack and I have fun.”
She jumps down from her stool, grabs his arm, and leads him to the dance floor. He’s all too eager to join her. I grit my teeth as I watch the two.
A waitress appears to take my drink order.
When she leaves, I settle into my uncomfortable seat.
By the general look of Zack, I don’t have high hopes for his dancing abilities.
At least, that’s my jealous side talking.
From acting as Steph’s wingman, I know what she considers a decent-looking dude, and she’d call this one a dime piece and then rub her tits all over him.
So the only hope I have now is for his dancing to suck balls.
Praying for a shitshow and trying to appear unfazed, I bob my head to the music. Except when the two find a spot among the crowd and begin to move, I realize how much trouble I’m in. Zack is a fucking dance genius. I lean forward, my mouth agape, watching his mad skills. Motherfucker.
The waitress drops the drink on my table, and I turn away to down it in one gulp.
When I slam the empty glass down, clanking the ice, I commence moping.
I’m done tonight. I know when I’ve been outplayed.
Getting ready to surrender the mission, I allow myself one last look at Cait before I leave, but I have to do a double take when I see her.
My brows rise. I didn’t notice before, but Cait’s dancing looks like a cat wiggling its way out of a Halloween costume. She’s shaking her leg like there’s tape stuck to the bottom of her foot and she can’t reach it. And what the hell is she doing with her mouth? She looks like a feeding piranha.
I clench my gut and double over with laughter.
What makes this extra special is I’m pretty positive she has no clue how ridiculous she looks.
She steps on Zack’s toes at least five times, and by the end of the song, they’ve bumped heads twice.
I can’t be sure, but this is probably the reason he bolts when the next song begins.
With her hands latched on her hips, she watches him dart away, disappearing into the crowd. I use the moment to slide in where he left off. When she’s not looking, I grab her waist, spin her until she faces me, and gather her close when a slow song plays by Madonna.
“Here to gloat?” She jerks away, but I refuse to release her.
“No, I’m here to tell you he’s an idiot.”
She relaxes a little. At the tiny concession, I place my hand on the small of her back to control her movements, easing her to sway smoothly with mine.
“He was dancing with the prettiest girl here, and he blew it.”
She gives me a half smile and sighs. “I was having fun. I guess he wasn’t.” Her long-lashed gaze slides away with embarrassment.
“Maybe you were just trying to have fun with the wrong guy.” I want to make her feel better, and I know I’ve succeeded when she shoots me an inquiring look.
“And you know the right guy?”
“Yeah. Me.”
She laughs, but then her teeth tug at her bottom lip. “I don’t know. I think I’d need proof before agreeing to that statement.”
“Challenge accepted.”
I spin her twice before reeling her in close, pressing our hips tight.
She locks her arms around my neck and lays her head on my shoulder.
If I had a choice, this is where I’d stay all night, but the moment doesn’t last long enough.
I’m disappointed when the song’s tempo speeds up, remixing with something upbeat.
Cait steps away to start her crazy cat dance again.
“Oh, hell no.” I clasp her hand with mine, tugging her from the dance floor. I can’t allow her to embarrass herself again.
“Am I that awful?” She teeters on her heels behind me until we reach our table.
“Imagine the prettiest girl in the world trying not to slip on ice while playing the air guitar and chewing a jawbreaker.” I cast a glance in her direction, and she laughs.
“That’s true talent.” She beams.
“A talent you should save only for me. Let’s get out of here.” I toss some money on the table to cover our tabs before we collect our coats.
“But . . . Steph.” Cait resists, scanning the fog-filled room.
I point, and Cait’s gaze follows my finger. In a dark corner, Trevor and Steph are tangled in a triple X-rated make-out session.
“I think she’ll be okay,” I say. “Besides, I have a lot to prove to you tonight.”