Page 22 of One More Weekend

Don’t be crazy.

It was a reminder I needed more often than not, especially when Jen looked at me like she just did. She’d looked me right in my eye when I’d asked her who at Henrietta's she wanted to flirt with.

She was stunning, her brown hair cascading down her shoulders in perfect curls.

Swallowing my nerves, I brought myself to the issue at hand. “Show me who.”

But Jenna bit her lip, avoiding my eyes now.

“What?”

She pursed her lips together and shrugged as she leaned into my ear. “Would it be terrible if I just wanted to hang out with you?”

The corners of my mouth lifted into a smile. “Of course not. I’d love to hang out with you.”

“You’re not disappointed? I know we were supposed to be wild and crazy but…” She didn’t need to finish the sentence. The unspoken truth was that we were both trying desperately to findevery moment we could to be together, the impending doom of Jen’s departure weighing on us both.

But we were here to have fun, there was no point bringing it up.

Instead, I offered an alternative. “You just got out of something, you can take as much time as you need.”

Her face dropped slightly, but she caught herself and smiled again. “Do you wanna dance with me?”

“Yes!”

I wasn’t sure what the face was about. Normally, Jen loved an excuse like that to avoid being honest about her feelings. But something was up.

Making a note of it for myself, I eyed a way into the crowd.

From my side, I felt Jenna’s warm palm slip into mine, lacing her fingers with mine as she walked toward the dance floor. Whatever it was about, Jenna didn’t want to talk about it anymore, instead wanting to start dancing just two shots deep.

We make our way out to the center of the bar, bodies pressing into each other from every angle.

Once we found our spot, Jenna started to sway to the music. The DJ threw on a new Bad Bunny song, the beat flowing through my feet as my hips tried to keep pace.

Notoriously a bad dancer, I would only come out to flirt or be with Jen.

Jenna watched me closely, throwing her head back with laughter as I struggled to find the rhythm that seemed to come so naturally to her. She reached down to her side and grabbed my hips using her grip to guide me along to the song.

There was no point trying to talk over the music. Instead, Jenna looked at me and nodded before turning around and facing the front of the room. She pressed her ass back, using it to keep me in line.

My throat tightened as I felt her, a jolt of electricity shooting down to my center.

It’s nothing. You just haven’t gotten laid in a while. It’s the tequila talking.

The reminder wasn’t enough for my body to stop reacting as sweat started to build on my forehead.

As the song changed, my hips attempted to switch rhythms but Jenna reached her hands behind her, gripping my waist and keeping me in step. Her grip pressed our bodies closer as I started to grind into her.

My hands moved down to her hips, letting her swaying move my shoulders along with our hips.

A laugh rose to my chest as we moved closer. She was unbelievable, her ass round and plump against me and her back tensing under the shirt I’d seen a hundred times.

Lifting a hand, she brushed her hand over one shoulder, exposing her neck to me.

I couldn’t be sure she remembered how dangerous that was for me. I’d told her on a stoned night-in that I was a sucker for a soft neck at some point in college but it would have been a long time for her to remember a detail like that, one she never needed.

Unable to stay farther away, allured by the skin and the smell of her sweat, I let my head drop toward her.

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