Page 30 of Bulletproof Love

Avoiding giving his name. Nice touch.

Jasper leans against the bar, pulling Fairfax’s attention away from me. I figure now is a better time than any to do a lap around.

With my drink in hand, I stick to the perimeter, taking note of my surroundings. The first thing I notice is the lack of women here. Other than servers bustling around, I’ve only spotted two or three other women compared to at least thirty men. That’s a red flag if I’ve ever seen one.

“Leon, you there?” I try to speak without making it obvious. When he doesn’t answer right away, I bring my drink close to my lips, using that as a way to cover my mouth and raise my voice. “Leon?”

Still nothing.

“Shit.” There’s got to be something up with the connection. “Jasper, can you hear me?”

Nothing. Not even static.

And this is why there always needs to be a backup plan and then a backup to the backup plan. It’s fine though. There’s nothing so terrible going on that I need to panic. I’ll find the restroom and see if I can figure out what’s up. It actually feels good to have something to focus on. Tech, I can do. Mingling with creepy dudes, hard pass.

It doesn’t take me long to find the restroom. Once I’m in, I remove my mask and take way too much time trying to figure out the problem. So much time that I jump out of my skin when someone knocks at the door.

Frustrated that I’m unable to fix the problem, I shove the earpiece into my purse, adjust my mask, and slip out past a grumbling man. “It’s all yours.”

“About time,” he says.

“Friendly crowd,” I murmur as the bathroom door slams shut inches from my face.

I spot Jasper talking animatedly with a group of men around a cocktail table. They’re laughing about who knows what. How does he make it look so easy? I down the rest of my drink in two gulps and make my way toward the bar. He finds me in the crowd, his eyes locking onto mine, sending a spark through my veins.

He places a hand on one of the men’s shoulders and excuses himself with a smile. Each step he takes in my direction has my chest loosening and my heart beating extra fast. I look closely at the ice in my glass to keep myself from staring.

As he reaches me, the music changes tempo and a voice sounds above the noise of conversation. “This one is for the couples. Come on up to the dance floor.” The band begins to play “At Last.” As the vocals drift out in a sultry, almost hypnotic way, a couple nearby gravitates toward the dance floor. I know there won’t be many couples out there, and already all eyes are on that lone pair, but when Jasper holds his hand out to me, brow raised and corner of his lip turned up, I don’t hesitate.

“Dance with me, Trouble.”

CHAPTERTWELVE

FALIN

His hand settleson the small of my back, warm and reassuring, and we weave through a few occupied tables to the dance floor in front of the band. There’s no time for me to take stock of how I feel or if I even want to dance with Jasper. He takes charge, pressing against me so close that the fresh scent of his cologne invades my senses, as he wraps both arms around my waist. We begin to sway to the music, and I close my eyes to try and ground myself back to reality. I can’t push him away, not here and not now, when we’re on display for all these vultures to gape at.

His lips brush the top of my head, sending a shiver down my spine. “Don’t hide those eyes from me.”

“I’m not hiding.”

Yes, I am.

I can’t look at him when his body is against mine, wrapped in his arms, tucked beneath his chin. He feels too safe, too right, when inside I know that’s bullshit.

His hand trails up the column of my throat until it reaches my chin. He rests the tips of his fingers beneath it, tipping my face up and lightly rubbing his thumb against my bottom lip. A ragged breath escapes me and my eyes drift open, meeting his intense gaze in the dim light. I hate that my knees weaken and I’m forced to clutch him tighter.

“There you are.” His voice is barely audible, but I hear it through the noise of the music, the clinking of glasses, the hum of conversation. I’d hear him anywhere and through anything.

There’s a dozen ways I could respond, but they all stay stuck in the back of my throat. Instead, I lean into him, letting him lead as our bodies sway to the soulful melody. This is a first for me. I’ve danced in clubs where sweat-soaked bodies ground against each other without any sense of intimacy. Those moments were nothing more than letting the music take me. A tangling of heat and hormones, chasing the rhythm in the dark.

This is different. His steady heartbeat against my cheek, the gentle dominance of his hands holding me in place like I’m precious to him. It’s more dangerous than anything we’ll encounter at this party.

When the last note trails off, his arms stay locked around my waist, like he’s reluctant to let me go. I clear my throat, breaking the spell, and quickly back away a step.

I glance around the room where most people have gone back to paying the dance floor no mind, except for that same man with the dark eyes—Fairfax. “We need to talk,” I whisper. “There’s something up with the earpieces.”

He takes a moment to snap back to reality. “What?”

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