Page 1 of Cruel Steps

CHAPTER

ONE

EMERSON

Two years ago, I never would have imagined I’d be dancing in a club with my hands in the air, swaying to the beat with my classmates. It wasn’t the club that was the oddity, but that I was with peers and not hiding in a corner. Instead, I was in the center of the dance floor and the bass thumped through my bones, pounding out a rhythm my body refused to ignore. And despite the sweat covering me and my feet aching, I was happy. Not about the sweaty club, per se, but the dancing.

On the dance floor, I came alive, and it was the only time I felt comfortable in my skin. With each step, my body communicated without using words that my quiet, unsure, and overthinking self lacked. It was my freedom.

The difference was so startling that my roommate joked I was a dancepire. Instead of blood, I needed dance to fuel my soul.

Random people pressed into me from every direction, and hands ran over my curves. I didn’t know who it was, nor did I care. I wasn’t going to hook-up with them, I just wanted to dance; there was no other intent needed for me. Their body was an extension of the steps—nothing more, nothing less. I leaned into them, loving the feel of a close body, and lost myself in the sensations: the music, the dance, the atmosphere. Every part of it was magic.

The music changed, and I opened my eyes, taking in the crowd. Orchid was packed tonight as the students of Brighton University celebrated the end of finals. Summer break was on the horizon, and with it came three months of freedom.

Or, in my case, three months of hell.

I attended school two states away from home, and it wasn’t because of Brighton’s stellar academic programs or job placement ratio. Those were outstanding, but I’d come here solely to escape my bully. Hope Adler—the person who’d made me fear my own shadow.

Sadly, in this day and age, having a bully wasn’t uncommon. It didn’t make me unique, just another statistic. Maybe that was why I hated math.

So, while my fellow Wildcats celebrated the end of a semester, I mourned the loss of my sanctuary. Tonight was my last hurrah before I shut myself indoors all summer to avoid Hope and her minions.

Nowhere in Oak Hills was safe.

I pushed thoughts of tomorrow away, along with the guilt that clawed up my throat for ignoring the five missed calls from my dad. I’d deal with it later. I didn’t have the capacity for anything else tonight. I lost myself in the music again and danced my heart out, forgetting all about home and Hope.

Tonight was about me. Everything else could wait.

“Emmy, hot guy alert. He’s been staring at you for the past two songs,” Taylor, my roommate, shouted. She draped her arm over my shoulder, tugging me down to her.

The guy she’d been dating this week clung to her like an octopus, kissing her neck, oblivious to the dancing bodies around us. Snorting, I shook my head at him and she shrugged. Taylor often had guys be into her more than she was into them, which meant she had a rotating door of suitors. I had the opposite problem.

Surveying the crowd, I gaped at how crowded it had become since I’d been dancing in my own world. Taylor and I were regular visitors to Orchid, making it easy to spot new faces. Tonight, there were a lot of them. It had to be locals returning home for the summer.

When I didn’t find anyone staring, Taylor motioned with her eyes to the side. I followed, curious to who was checking me out. Outside Orchid, I never knew if a guy was interested. I over-thought every interaction, mixing up if they were flirting or only being nice. Too many scars from high school prevented me from trusting guys’ intentions unless it was specifically spelled out. So, by the time I did, most had given up and moved on to someone easier.

Inside Orchid, it was the opposite. I could gauge interest by reading their body language, feel the heat of their stare, or the press of their arousal against me. These were things I didn’t question. They only wanted me for the night, but I was good with that. Completely fine, actually. Any more and I’d grow attached. I wasn’t great at the whole ‘no feelings’ with sex thing.

Hookups kept it simple. The lines were drawn, and there were no questioning motives or feelings—something I did far too often in the daylight.

Huh. Guess I was a dancepire.

I peered in the direction she’d motioned, my eyes scanning the faces highlighted by the strobe lights. It was a sea of people, and I didn’t spot anyone looking at me. I was about to tell her to get her eyes checked when I felt him. Heat seared into me from across the floor, ramping up my internal temperature that had nothing to do with dancing. Dark hair swept over his brow, highlighting aquamarine eyes that were pinned to me.

A line of electricity raced across the floor, connecting his eyes to mine. It felt so powerful; I wasn’t convinced it wasn’t tangible. Despite all the bodies between us, it felt like only the two of us were in this moment, and everyone else faded away.

“Ask him to dance,” Taylor encouraged, breaking the connection and plunging me back to reality. My senses returned, and I sucked in a breath from the overwhelming intensity of the encounter.

“I...” I trailed off, words scrambling over one another, but none forming in my mouth.

No! This didn’t happen here. Everywhere else, yes. But not here.

So I did what she suggested and beckoned him with my finger.

At first, it didn’t seem like he would respond, but the song changed, and Teddy Swims’ baritone voice filled Orchid, and he moved. His eyes held mine the entire distance, and the crowd naturally parted for him. With each step closer, it became obvious why.

This guy wasn’t just hot; he was scorching!

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