Page 74 of Not Fooling Anyone

“Of course I do.”

He sets his cup down and takes hold of my waist, surprising me as he moves me backward into the sea of bodies, the bass of whatever song is playing thumping through me.

After carving out a spot for us, he yells over the music, “I see why you want to dance now.” He jerks his head in the direction of Savannah and I shrug in response, unable to deny it. It was the whole point of coming here tonight.

“I’ve come to terms with my pettiness,” I reply.

“You won’t hear any complaints from me.”

He moves to the rhythm of the song surprisingly well, and I follow his lead. I guess Mister Boxer’s got moves.

“You dance well,” I tell him.

He winks at me. “It’s all in the hips.”

I laugh, something in me light and loose being here with him like this. There’s this feeling in me like anything could happen. The night is ours to make what we will of it.

His eyes dance with amusement as he watches me. “Is she looking?”

My gaze cuts to her briefly, finding her attention on us. “Yes.”

He bends down a little, still dancing as he says in my ear, “You know what would really get her?”

“What?” I grin, glad he’s become my co-conspirator in this, too.

“If we started making out here in the middle of the dance floor.”

I laugh again, the idea ridiculous. “Oh, would it?”

I lean back, expecting to find him grinning, but he doesn’t return my smile, his gaze serious. He’s nearer than I expected too, especially as he uses his hands on my waist to bring me in closer to him.

My hands automatically move to his broad shoulders to steady myself, my fingers flexing against the muscle there.

“If you want to make her jealous,” he says, barely audible over the music, “let’s do it right.”

My heart beats painfully in my chest, gaze dropping to his lips. I guess it’s not a big deal, I tell myself. We’ve already kissed before. What’s another time?

I find myself nodding, closing my eyes as his mouth meets mine, the music, the other dancers, the party itself slowly fading as he once more drags me under his spell, further than the other day in the Psych lab.

My hands move from his shoulders to intertwine around the back of his neck, stepping in closer until I’m flush against his hard chest, remembering how good he’d looked at the gym with his shirt off. My hands itch to travel down his body and under that shirt, tracing each ridge of his abdomen up to his defined pecs.

What would it be like to have the freedom to do that? To be his girlfriend in truth, with free rein to explore him however I want?

I pull back, confused by my train of thought, but he moves in again, cupping my jaw, kissing me deeper this time, my body singing with the way he focuses all his attention on me. No one has ever been this intent with me. Like they can’t get enough.

Is it all part of the act? Is he doing this solely for Savannah to watch? Or is he really feeling it? Does he actually want to kiss me? To make out with me?

And do I want him to want that? To want me?

The idea is… terrifying. Like I told him yesterday, getting that close to him, having him know all of me… There’s no way he’d stick around.

But for now, I let myself continue, too caught up in this moment to put a stop to it, even though I should. Even though it’ll be harder later to act like everything is normal between us. Like we didn’t spend who knows how long making out at a party in front of who knows how many people. Like his tongue wasn’t in my mouth, making me moan, making me press even closer to him, wanting more.

“Fuck,” he groans, the single word doing more to get me going than anything else I’ve ever experienced.

He shifts his hips, something hard coming in contact with my lower half, and I hiss in a breath, too surprised to say anything. Is he…

“Get a room,” someone shouts at us, reality crashing back down.

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