Page 185 of Traitor

Before he can respond, the song playing in the bar changes. It's... awful. Some old country song that's way too twangy, with lyrics that don't make any sense.

Bones groans. "What the fuck is this?"

I start laughing. "I have no idea."

And then, in a burst of boldness — or maybe just a whiskey-induced impulse — I grab his hand. "Dance with me."

He stares at me, incredulous. "To this?"

"Yes!" I tug him toward the open space near the jukebox. "Come on, big man. Show me what you've got."

He grumbles something under his breath, but he follows me. He always does.

I loop my arms around his neck, swaying us to the music. His hands settle on my waist, warm and steady. The song is terrible, but somehow, this moment is perfect.

I look up at him, smiling. "See? We can have fun anywhere."

His lips twitch. "I never said we couldn't."

I hum, resting my head against his chest. "I think I like drunk me. She makes great decisions."

Bones laughs, pressing a kiss to my hair. "Yeah, baby. She does."

We keep dancing, slow and easy, the world fading around us. It's just us, the music, the warmth of his body against mine.

Then the song changes again. And this time, it's fast. Loud. Some chaotic rock song that makes the speakers crackle.

Bones pulls back slightly, smirking. "Still want to dance, baby?"

I smirk right back. "You bet your ass I do."

We end up making a complete spectacle of ourselves, jumping around, spinning each other, laughing so hard my stomach hurts. I don't even care that people are staring. I don't care that I'm probably going to be sore tomorrow from all the terrible dance moves I just attempted.

I'm having fun.

With him.

And it feels... good. Right. Like it was always meant to be like this.

By the time we collapse into our seats, I'm spent. I lean against Bones, giggling into his shoulder.

He chuckles, brushing my hair out of my face. "You're gonna feel that in the morning."

"Worth it," I mumble.

Then I yawn.

Then I sway.

Bones steadies me with a hand on my thigh, laughing softly. "Alright, baby. Time to get you home."

I nod sleepily. "Take me home, big man."

He presses a kiss to my forehead, then pulls out his phone.

I frown. "What're you doing?"

"Calling Mindfuck."

---