Page 55 of Flipping the Script

Tearing my eyes from Jesse and his dance partner, I focused my attention on Jevan. But the moment was gone. Not even the music could help me get back into the mood.

When the song was done, Jevan turned to face me. “Thanks for the dances.”

“Have a good evening.”

“I plan to.” He grinned and spun on his heel, then weaved through the crowd to get to his boyfriend.

I was about to leave the dance floor when another guy stepped into Jevan’s empty place.

He didn’t say anything, just hooked his finger in the waistband of my jeans and stepped closer.

Again, he wasn’t my type, but he was cute and had dark hair and a long, lean body.

A quick glance at Jesse confirmed he was still dancing with his redhead.

Not thinking too hard about why I was accepting his silent invitation, I let him press up against me and drape his arms over my neck.

He was slick with sweat and smelled like vodka, but he was a decent dancer and didn’t seem all that inclined to chat.

The current song wasn’t my type of music, but the upbeat tempo and sugar pop lyrics made it easy to dance to.

I tried to keep my focus on the guy I was dancing with, but I couldn’t stop my gaze from searching Jesse out every time the song switched between the refrain and the verses.

I shouldn’t be surprised that Jesse was beauty in motion when he danced. I’d seen him play sports over the years, and he had an innate grace about him that made pretty much everything he did look effortless.

I’d never admit this to anyone, but I’d watched most of Jesse’s baseball games in school. My excuse had been that we had mutual friends who went to his home games, so it wasn’tweird if I went too. I’d told myself it was so I could see him fuck up in real time, but as a star player, Jesse rarely fucked up.

My dance partner did a move where he dropped down low, then popped his ass and dragged it up my body as he stood back up, angled away from me so the only points connecting us were his ass against my crotch.

Circling my hands around his hips, I let him grind against me and stole a quick glance at Jesse.

He was glaring at me, his mouth in a tight line as he dragged his dance partner closer and wrapped his arms around him.

I looked away. What did I care who Jesse danced with? We were nothing to each other.

Anger crept into my confusion. Why did he have to be here tonight of all nights? This was supposed to be my chance to forget about him, not ogle him while he got his freak on with some twink.

The corner of Jesse’s mouth curled up in a smirk, like he knew his presence was fucking up my mood.

I narrowed my eyes. Two could play this game. If he wanted to ruin my night, I could ruin his.

Not taking my eyes off him, I ran my hands over my dance partner’s chest, then pantomimed dragging my nails down his front the way I’d scratched Jesse’s back the other night.

His eyes flared with something I couldn’t place, and his jaw worked as he ground his teeth together.

Giving him a little grin, I pressed my nose against my dance partner’s neck. I didn’t breathe in or kiss it or anything. Just held there and kept my eyes locked on Jesse to piss him off.

He gripped his partner’s hips and dragged him closer, bending him over at the waist so he was the one mimicking some doggy-style fucking.

Heat prickled at my chest and neck, uncomfortable and annoying, as he shot me one of his trademark smirk-smiles.

My partner leaned back against me and gripped the sides of my jeans.

Keeping my gaze locked on Jesse, I slid my hand up my partner’s body and gently rested it just under his throat.

Jesse’s eyes flared again, his expression an intoxicating mix of a smolder and some epic resting bitch face that was strangely hot.

Nothing about what we were doing should be hot. Dancing with other guys, basically using them as props to piss each other off, was a dick move.

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