“Enough talk.” He taps my ass, steering me to the center of the dance floor. “Come on, girl. Let’s have fun.”
Countless songs in and I’m a sweaty mess. We all are. Most of Zanders and Stevie’s teammates and friends haven’t left the dance floor, and the DJ finally caught on to the fact that all we want to hear is ass-grinding music.
My shoes have been long discarded, and I hope I find them again. They were cute. Expensive too.
The dance floor in general is a chaotic mess of music, sweat, and grinding bodies. This once black-tie affair has quickly turned into a personal nightclub of overdressed guests.
Even through the madness, I track where Ryan is, whether that’s on the outskirts sharing a drink with his dad or taking a quick step outside for air. He only lasted two songs before he took off and call me needy, but I want him out here again.
“Dance with me, Indigo!” Rio grabs me, slinging my arms over his shoulders, keeping his hands at a respectful height on my back.
Our hips move together, but it’s completely platonic. There’s enough distance between us to make that clear.
Through the dim lighting, loud music, and over Rio’s shoulder, I find Ryan watching me from the edge of the dance floor. Drink in one hand, the other in his pocket. The last time he caught me dancing with Rio was at the fall banquet. This time, even though I can see the heat flaming in his eyes, it’s matched by a self-assured stance.
He watches me with suffocating intensity, bringing the rim of his glass to his lips, and even as I move with Rio, I keep my attention locked on him.
Are we still pretending? I’d love to know.
His gaze rakes my body, slow and sweeping, not missing an inch and all I want to do is tempt my jealous fake boyfriend enough to get him out here. So, I do it. Turning around, I put my back to Rio’s front, swaying my hips to the beat, all while keeping my eyes locked on Ryan.
“Just so you know,” Rio says into my ear, loud enough to hear over the music. “I’m well aware you’re using me to make him jealous and I’m perfectly okay with that.”
I chuckle. “I was hoping you would be.”
“Fuck it.” Rio grabs my waist, pulling me into him. “But if he hits me for this, he better at least give me an autograph too.”
His hands overtake my hips, his mouth next to my ear, and not even ten seconds pass before a pair of expensive dress shoes stop in front of me. I track the legs they belong to, long and muscular, finding an unimpressed stare on Ryan’s handsome face.
“You can go,” he says to Rio, keeping his intense ocean eyes on me.
Rio’s hands shoot up in surrender. “She made me do it.”
“Oh, I’m well aware.”
“I’m gonna…” Rio tosses a thumb over his shoulder. “Yeah,” he says, taking off.
“Nice little show.”
“Thank you. Got you on the dance floor with me, didn’t it?”
I step my bare feet onto the tops of his shoes, slinging my arms around his neck. And even though this music is meant to grind and shake your ass to, he begins to move his feet, slow dancing with me once again.
“Do we need to add this to our deal? Put it on the fridge? Because as far as I’m concerned no one else gets to touch you.”
“Does that mean you’ll touch me?” Jesus. No filter tonight apparently.
Brows lift in surprise. “Do you want me to touch you?”
Yes. Yes, please.
“I’ve told you before,” he continues. “All you’ve got to do is say the word. Ask for my help, Indy.”
As tempting as it is to let the words slip out of my mouth, I hesitate.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just trying to figure out how good you are at acting.”
“You think I’m acting?”
“I don’t know what’s what anymore.”
His palm slides down my back, cupping my ass, and pulling my hips into his where I’m met with a bulge hitting just above the apex of my thighs. “Does this feel fake to you?”
My breath catches. “Jealousy turns you on?”
“Nah. No need to be jealous when I know what’s mine. I’m the one you’re going home with.”
As if every last feminist bone has left my body, I melt into him.
A beat passes, stares bouncing between eyes and lips. Fuck it, I don’t want to wait to get home.
Leaning up on my toes, I move towards his mouth, and I can sense him slanting down partway to meet me before my drunk best friend grabs my hand.
“Our ride is here! There’s room for you guys. Let’s go.”
Stevie.
Fuck.
I was about two seconds away from kissing her brother at her engagement party, and I’ve yet to tell her about my feelings for him. Sure, she gets my daily updates, but I doubt she realizes how serious I am in the majority of them.
As Zanders said, I don’t think she’d be upset, but Stevie has a track record of shitty friends using her to get close to her brother. I refuse to let her believe I’m one of them. I have to speak to her first. My friendship with her is far more important than the crush I’ve developed on my roommate.
Ryan’s expression matches mine, as if the exact sentiment went through his mind.
He steps back, creating distance. “I’ll grab our jackets.”
I say goodbye to the guys from the Raptors before heading out with Stevie.
“I barely saw you tonight,” she drunkenly reminds me, leaning her head on my shoulder.
“I know. I’m sorry. You were a little popular.”
“And you and my brother were a little obsessed with each other.”
I halt us in our steps, looking over to her, thankful to find a humorous glint in her blue-greens. “We were practicing. For Maggie’s wedding.”
“Mm-hmm,” she hums, unconvinced. “Dry-humping his leg was practice?”
“Now you take them seriously?! You never listen to my daily updates!”
She laughs. “Seeing you two tonight made it pretty clear that your daily updates are genuine. And in case tonight wasn’t just some pretend practice for Maggie’s wedding, and not that you need my permission, but I’m cool with it.”
“You are?”
“Yeah.” She pops her shoulders.
“I don’t want you to think that I’m violating our friendship or anything.”
“Oh God. Our friendship was violated from the first daily update.” She throws her hip into mine. “Of course, I don’t think that. You don’t have a bad bone in your body. You’re my best friend, Ind. All I want is for you to be happy. Just be careful with him, okay? He’s sensitive, even though he tries to hide it.”
Hearing the person who knows Ryan best call him sensitive, reaffirms what I already knew. He feels things. He’s emotional, even if he tries to play it off.
“I’m going to come over this week so you can give me all the details but give your girl a Cliff Notes version. How’d your flashy fiancé propose? I know it was extravagant as hell.”
“So over the top. Rented a private plane and flew us to different cities that mean something to us. Cities where we fell in love last year. Then in the most perfectly understated way, that felt as if it were meant just for me, he popped the question at home because he wanted Rosie to be there too.”