Page 37 of Sincerely, Your Enemy

TJ doesn’t answer, moving away from me and catching my hand in his. “Then let’s go find you another prospect.”

TJ laces his fingers with mine, and even though every bone in my body is telling me to resist, I let him lead me to the dance floor—i.e., the packed living room.

The only light in the room comes from the projectors casting patterns all over the walls and ceilings, but the area is just bright enough for me to discern Chance and his girlfriend, Bethany, jumping to the beat of the music.

Chance’s eyes widen in shock when he sees TJ and me holding hands, and I realize most people probably thought Heather was talking out of her ass.

My heart bounds against my ribs when TJ slips behind me, his big hands falling on each side of my waist. Our bodies are flush together, so close I can feel every muscle in his chest pushing against my back.

TJ starts to dance, but I haven’t had nearly enough wine to relax, and he seems to feel it, his fingers digging into my hip bones and drawing small but precise circles.

“You should know I haven’t danced in a hot minute,” I whisper.

He laughs, his breath brushing against my neck. “Noted.”

I eventually ease into his touch, letting his hands guide me. Just like that, we’re dancing. He’s showing me how to move at first, but then I sway my hips on my own, my years of cheerleading coming back to me.

I get lost in the moment, resting my head on his shoulder and rubbing against him a little too provocatively for my taste. I realize what I’m doing a heartbeat later and try to move away, but he tightens his grip on my hips, keeping me there.

“Don’t go getting shy on me now, Mattson.”

My eyes sweep across the room, and my pulse quickens. Nearly everyone is watching us dance. I see Aaron turn the corner with Heather. Then I see Dia. And Finn. And Theo.

They’re talking by the front door, but they’re casting glances in our direction every few seconds. With the way they’re gaping at us, you’d think we were having sex right in the middle of the dance floor.

“Turn around,” TJ commands.

I hesitate.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Lacey.”

My throat dries, a drop of anxiety mixing with the lust coursing through my veins, but I oblige.

“Look at me. Not them,” TJ instructs from the moment our eyes meet.

“Everyone is staring at us,” I state the obvious.

He seems pleased by that. “Then we’re doing something right.”

We’re not dancing anymore, just standing still in a crowd of drunk students.

“Do you remember what I said? About guys wanting what they can’t have?” he says quietly.

“Yeah?”

TJ cups my jaw, inches forward from my face, and whispers, “This is the part where I show them what they’re missing.”

“What—”

He cuts me off with a kiss so light, at first, I wonder if the whole thing is happening in my head.

There’s a pause in the music at the exact same time TJ’s mouth brushes against mine, and I hear a gasp. At first, I think it came from someone in the crowd, but then TJ roughly parts my lips with his tongue, and I realize it was me.

I did that.

I don’t like him. Never have, but my hands still fly out to grip the collar of his shirt. His tongue slides over mine, and a part of me wants to cry tears of relief. It’s been so long since I’ve had this. With anyone.

Oh, God.

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