Page 23 of Dear Grumpy Boss

I press my palm to his mouth so that my brother doesn’t hear his outrageous threats.

He plucks me from Adam’s side like I’m some ripe, low-hanging fruit. “Excuse us, Adam. Your little sister and I have a score to settle. Go hang out with Nate. You and he can bore each other to death with baseball stats.”

By the time my panic subsides, and I can breathe normally again, Zayn’s got me cornered against an alcove. We’re still visible to the guests, lot of heads are craning toward us. Plus, Zayn shows his face for five minutes at these things, usually in a sweatshirt and week-old jeans. Not sexy and suave like tonight.

With his breadth covering me, no one can see my expression at least.

“I like when you get bossy, Mouse,” he says, pointing to my fingers wrapped around his wrist.

I drop him like I’m scalded. “Don’t do this in front of Adam.”

He shrugs, but there’s a tight line around his mouth. “He’ll know, sooner or later. This way, his break at home won’t be boring.”

“Learning that his baby sister’s horny and wants to be his best friend’s little slut is a nice surprise?”

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, Mouse. I like it.” He rubs his thumb over my lower lip. “Are you a slut for me?”

I nod, because at this point, I’ve got nothing to lose. “Yes.”

“But you don’t want your brother to know?”

“What’s the point in disrupting your friendship when this is nothing but a game to you? It’s not like we’re dating.” My voice goes low at the end, and I feel small. No, I feel on the verge ofgetting my heart broken by tomorrow this time. But neither will I back down from whatever this is and however long it lasts.

Maybe I’m finally grown-up.

“I’m not the one hiding behind potted palms and big brothers, Mouse.” There’s a gentleness to Zayn’s tone that ruins me. “Come, dance with me.”

I stare at his hand with its long, elegant fingers and rope abrasions on the palm. Every inch of me sways toward him as if he’s my true north. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Everyone will be watching and I’m not—”

“You love dancing. I’ve seen your moves when you dance along to the choreography on the Xbox.”

“When?”

“That Christmas morning when your gran said you couldn’t open presents until I was up too.”

“I knew it,” I say, slapping his chest. “I knew you were awake but just messing with me. Coming between me and my presents.”

He grins and it takes everything I have to not taste it and steal it for myself. But I’m not ready for the world to know that Zayn is entertaining himself with me for one day. It’s too precious and fragile.

“I sat on the steps and watched you for forty-five minutes, Mouse. You dance with your soul.” He searches my gaze. “Of course, now I can admit that I was entranced by that heart-shaped ass in purple leggings.” He laughs and thrusts a hand through his hair. The gesture is not nervous exactly, but full of self-deprecation. “You’d just turned nineteen and my ogling was barely legal.”

Warmth floods my entire being. How does he unravel me so easily? So many little things, he’s stored them all away, in that big computer brain of his. And yet, the things he’s saying, they don’t come from his brain.

He’s speaking from his heart and I’m helpless to resist.

I place my hand in his and the touch anchors me like nothing and no one else can.

“And by the way, you look gorgeous in the slinky number. Although, I still think you looked better in my sweatshirt.”

I’m grinning like a loon when he drags me toward the dance floor, and for once, I don’t care who sees it.

Nine

Zayn

I’mright about Sasha’s dancing.

All she needs is a moment in the spotlight to let go of the last of her inhibitions. And me, standing by her, a desperate part of me hopes.

---