Page 26 of For What It's Worth

“Yes way,” she said without even turning her head around.

“How much have you had to drink?”

That got her attention. She turned her head to give me a mock glare. “We’re friends now. Friends don’t let friends dance alone on a stage.”

“I’m pretty sure that friends don’t let friends dance on a stage—period.”

“Nope. You’re wrong.”

I sighed out loud, because Hannah was right. Friends didn’t let friends dance alone. And I really wanted to be friends with Hannah. Even Knox, helpful, kind, outgoing Knox, I didn’t want to be friends with. But I wanted to get to know Hannah better so I could trust her with my secret, because I had this feeling she would be totally supportive.

Hannah bulldozed her way to the stage, pulling me in her wake, before somehow managing to dance to jazz. She should’ve looked crazy, dancing without a partner, but the deep voice singing about waiting at a bar matched perfectly. Dancing when the song didn’t have instructions, was not my forte. I stared at Hannah, hoping I’d learn through osmosis.

“Here you go, ladies,” a new voice said. It belonged to a male wearing a black, buttoned-up shirt and a little apron wrapped around his waist. He had dark skin, a close shaved head, and tattoos covering almost all his available skin, but there wasn’t anything intimidating about him or his kind smile. “The males at the bar sent these for you. I poured them myself.”

I searched the bar, expecting to see Jenson or Enzo, or hell even one of Hannah’s alphas, but a group of four males had their bodies turned this way.

One of them, I think he was the drummer in the band, but I couldn’t guarantee that, raised his own drink like he was accepting thanks.

Without hesitating, Hannah grabbed the small glass and threw back a clear colored alcohol in a single swallow. “Free is free,” she said, shoving the remaining glass in my hand and guiding it to my mouth.

“Free is free,” I said, before taking the shot—though not as eloquently as Hannah. The liquid burned the back of my throat, and I would’ve sworn the heat went all the way up my nose. I tried to hold back my coughing but was very unsuccessful.

We thanked the server who, even in the dim light, blushed. Hannah went straight back to dancing, but even with more liquor in my system, I couldn’t make my body move beside a simple sway and foot tapping.

Taking pity on me, Hannah stepped close to me, gripping my hips in her small hands, and guiding them in an almost figure eight like movement. Her hips acted as a mirror to mine. Without any place to comfortably settle my arms, I placed my hands on Hannah’s shoulders. She scrunched her neck like she was scared I would tickle her. I laughed until my stomach hurt. Dragging my hands to her biceps, she nodded, letting me know my hand position was better.

Just like that, we danced. Hannah occasionally twirled me and then held my hand in position while she twirled herself. I wasn’t sure if this was sober or drunk Hannah, but she was fun either way. I never would’ve thought of dancing in this type of club, or to this type of music, but the stress of the day—of the week—just seemed to fall away. My only focus was on following Hannah’s lead.

The shy server came back twice more, always assuring us he made the drinks, before offering it to us on behalf of the same group of four males.

When Hannah let go of my hips and ran her fingers through her dark purple hair, I wondered if I should dye my hair too.

“Do you think I’d look good with pink hair?” I didn’t have to yell now that the crowd had mostly left or talked amongst themselves in their booths, but I struggled to regulate my own volume.

Hannah’s eyes widened, her smile forcing two dimples to appear. “Oh goodness, you have to get pink hair. You’d look so hot.” She stopped dancing and actually bounced up and down before reaching for my hair, looking at the ends. “I’ll give you the number of my stylist.”

Hannah patted down her body before realizing her phone wasn’t on her. Out of thin air, Han appeared, telling Hannah something along the lines that if she couldn’t remember where her phone was, she’s had too much to drink. Hannah took one look at Han and jumped on him, dragging his face to hers so she could kiss and suck on his lips.

Deciding not to intrude on the moment, I made my way to end of the stage, staring down at the floor, wondering how the stage seemed to have risen since Hannah dragged me up here. It made sense that it would rise up and down so the people in the back of the club could see, but who would’ve moved it higher when people were dancing on it? And why didn’t I feel it? Also, there should be stairs.

Without anything to hold on to, and not wanting to jump and risk breaking an ankle, I sat down and scooted to the edge of the stage. My feet settled on the floor, and I easily stood up. Huh, it must’ve been an optical illusion to look higher when on the stage.

“Where are you going, Koda?”

I smiled up at Jen, who obviously had too much to drink since he was swaying slightly. Grabbing a hold of his upper arm, I let him lean onto me.

“What are you doing, Koda?” Jen asked.

“Holding you up.”

He laughed, taken over by the alcohol, but the sound was so infectious I joined him. I definitely thought his joke was funnier than he did based on our laughing volume. Wait. What was his joke? I’d already forgotten it, but I didn’t want to admit it, so I tried to phase out the laughing.

“I think you’ve had too much to drink,” I told Jen. “But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

The stress Jen seemed to constantly wear on his face smoothed away, and he kissed me on the top of the head. I lost my balance slightly and couldn’t help but be overcome with giggles.

“Take deep breathes, Koda,” Jen said, but I could barely hear him over my own laughter.

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