Page 54 of Loathe at First Sight

We move around the floor to the quick-tempo song until it ends. The next one that plays is quite a bit slower, so he matches his pace and pulls me close. I have to admit that it’s pretty nice. Although I don’t feel any sort of extreme attraction here, I could see Jamie and I having some fun—even if it doesn’t go any further than a friendship.

Before long, though, I hear a deep voice behind me. “Hey, Jamie, Adam is looking for you.”

I don’t have to turn around to know it’s Jack.

Jamie looks over my shoulder. “I’m kind of busy here. What does he want?”

“No idea.”

Jamie’s gaze falls back to me. “Can you excuse me for a moment, Liz?”

“Of course.”

Once he walks away, Jack and I are left standing in the middle of the dance floor awkwardly staring at each other.

I’m stunned when he holds his hand out, “Can I cut in until Jamie gets back?”

I hesitate for a second but ultimately set my hand in his. The slow song still plays, so he pulls me close. But it’s not the same as when Jamie did it. Despite Jamie’s apparent confidence, there’s something much more commanding about Jack.

With one hand wrapped around his shoulders, I can feel just how muscular he is. I get a pretty decent view when I see him running, but it is nothing compared to how he feels under my touch.

Tonight, he’s lost the flannel and is instead wearing a black button-up shirt that fits him like a glove.

“No flannel?” I ask, trying to break the ice a little.

His mouth pulls up into a crooked smile. “I don’t wear flannel while I run either, Liz.”

“Well, no. But I thought outside of that, you always wore it, Mr. Bunyan.”

“Are you always so snarky?” He asks in a low voice.

As he slowly moves me around the floor, I answer, “I think you already know the answer to that.”

When I was dancing with Jamie, it was fun and carefree. In Jack’s arms, things feel completely different. I feel myself getting flustered, but I have no idea why. Maybe it’s because he’s an ass, and I’m just ready for this to be over.

Or maybe it’s because he smells really good, and it’s making it so I can’t think straight.

“So, what’s the deal with you and Jamie?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “He seems like a nice guy.”

When he doesn’t respond, I ask, “Am I wrong? Is he not a nice guy?”

“Oh, he’s nice. It’s just—”

“What?” I press.

“I don’t think Jamie is looking for anything more than some quick fun. He is more the hit it and quit it type.”

“Oh,” I say. “Well, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Maybe I’m not looking for anything serious. Maybe a booty call is exactly what I need.”

“So, you’re just going to sleep with the twenty-one-year-old?”

Still staring at him, I ask, “Why not? It’s not like I have a group of guys lining up to apply for the job.”

There’s something in the way that he looks at me. It’s like he wants to say something, but it’s taking every bit of his willpower to keep his mouth shut. His eyes glance from mine down to my lips and back again.

I expect him to have some smart-ass comment about me being a cougar or something of the like.

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