Page 39 of Secret Love

I look around for one of the guys to save me, but they're all in conversation. Penn and Rhodes are with two women who can't stop giggling. And Weston and Bowie are talking like they haven't seen each other all day. I try to get Bowie's attention, but he's laughing at something Weston has said, and then they stare out at the people dancing.

Just when I think I can't take another second of these whimpering, purring women—whoever thought that was sexy?—long, dark hair catches my eye. Her hair is down tonight, swishing around her waist, andfuckme. She looks so good.

Tru and Sadie walk past us like they don't even know that we're there. I glance at Weston and it seems like he hasn't noticed them. Did they plan this? Just then, I see Sadie turn back and wink at Weston. Those little matchmaking fuckers. Of course, they planned this.

Tru and Sadie go out on the dance floor and start dancing.

And holy hell.

I just thought I was interested in getting to know her before, but now, watching her move, watching the carefree way she throws her head back and laughs. The way she moves that body.

It's going to be hard to scrape this image of her out of my head.

She'sbeautiful.

I watch her dance for so long that the women trying to get my attention become antsy, but I can't help myself. Tru takes up every ounce of space in the room for me.

Sadie says something to her when the song slows. They laugh and Sadie points to the VIP section. I brace myself. Does Tru know I'm here? Did she plan this too?

As she's walking toward me, I can tell the moment she spots me. No, she did not realize I was here.

Her eyes glaze over when she sees the redhead put her hand on my arm. And I’d be lying if I said I didn't like the look that crosses her face. A flicker of white-hotjealousy.

“Excuse me, ladies,” I tell the three women. “I have someone I need to see.”

“But—”one of them says, as I'm walking off.

I don’t pause for a second. That look on Tru's face was all I needed to see to give me the nudge forward.

“Hey,” she says breathlessly. Almost like a purr, but I like everything about the way it sounds when she does it. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to see that you were born to dance.”

Her lips shift to the side as she tries not to grin. “Maybe a little,” she says.

“No, completely. And way more than me.” I grin.

Her eyes roam over my lips before they reach my eyes, and my hand tightens around my glass. I don’t think anyone has ever made me nervous before, but my insides are doing jumping jacks right now.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I ask.

“Sure, I’ll have a glass of wine.”

When the bartender comes over, Tru gets a glass of sauvignon blanc. Her full lips pucker as she takes a sip, her eyes on me.

“I bet you've got some moves, Mr. Football Player,” she says.

“Hmm, is that right? For some reason, I recall you saying something like I could barrel through people without—what was it? Without losing a breath?” If she knew how winded she makes me, she’d take back that statement.

She laughs. “Well, you might not be the most graceful man on the dance floor, but hey, how will I ever know if I don’t see you dance?” She takes a step back and looks me over and I take the opportunity to do the same to her.

“I’d be willing to give you some pointers,” she says.

“Would you now?”

She lifts her eyebrow and one shoulder. “You looked a little busy over here though. I didn't mean to chase anyone away.”

“I came to you, remember?”

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