Page 66 of Becoming His Perfect Daddy
But as I inched forward, circumventing the dance floor again to get back to my table and consequently get a better look, my stomach dropped. That definitelywasJason, my transphobic date from almost a year ago. Dancing withSam.
I saw red. Clenching my fist at my side while reminding myself to hold my drink gingerly so I didn’t crush it like a seventies TV show superhero, I tried to manage my breathing. Why the fuck was I getting so angry?
I supposed Iwasa superhero from the seventies. Because I was about to lose my shit.
Standing on the edge of the dance floor, I gulped the rum and coke, guzzling half of it in one go, and just watched Sam like the stalker I’d accused him of being. Creepy? Possibly. Did I care? Not in the slightest.
Besides, other people here were just chilling beside the dance floor, like me. Like Sam had been. I swayed to the music like they did. I was blending in, right? This was me blending.
Jason leaned forward, inches away from Sam, and I noticed Sam’s shoulders tense as he swayed backward, just slightly.
That body language was super fucking clear.
I was nanoseconds away from throwing my drink on the ground and shoving through the crowd to rescue the man. If he hadn’t been taller and larger than me, I might’ve considered the fireman’s carry.
Okay, I was totally considering the fireman’s carry.
Jason stumbled into Sam this time, and Sam’s hands reflexively shot out to catch him. I was too far away to know if Jason had said anything, but it was clear he was totally drunk. On second thought, he must have said something completely inappropriate, because Sam’s entire body jumped to attention this time, freezing in place.
I had to do somethingnow.
Setting my rum and coke none too gently on the closest surface then pushing through the crowd, I quickly reached Jason and Sam. The latter was still trying to keep the former on his feet, kind man that he was. Jason deserved to be trampled under all these dancers for how he was treating Sam right now. And how he treated me.
Before Sam even saw me, I heard Jason yell above the noise of the crowd, his words all mushed together. “Heeey, ’ake your top off, baby! I wah-nuh ssssee those tits.”
My body flew into action before I gave it a conscious command. My hand grasped Jason’s bicep, locking on tight and yanking him from Sam’s grasp. “Back the fuck off, Jason. Take your shit somewhere else.”
I knew the second Sam’s gaze landed on me. I could feel his brown eyes staring, digging below the surface, opening me up and laying me out for all to see. It was both unsettling and unbelievably sexy.
Jason’s slurred words proved I was right—he was well beyond buzzed and had moved into wasted. “You’ll beeeee ssssorry, man.” He shoved at Sam as he pushed himself up then stumbled away.
I slowly turned to face Sam, and we just stared at each other for a moment as bodies danced and gyrated around us. I wasn’t sure what song they were playing; even standing in the middle of the dance floor, the world had narrowed to just me and Sam.
“You’re here,” Sam breathed, his words a whisper I heard in my soul.
“I am,” I sent back, hoping he could hear me amidst the revelry.
Sam smirked, raising his voice to be heard above the crowd. “And you’re not punching me in the face.”
I smiled, tears swimming in my eyes. “Never.”
His smile softened and widened at the same time. Then he leaned forward, putting his lips to my ear. “Can we talk?”
Nodding, I grabbed his hand and led him back toward the table where I’d set my drink, somehow still miraculously unoccupied.
We took a seat, I flagged down a server to bring us two glasses of water and whatever Sam wanted to drink—a dark lager, as it turned out—then I faced him.
But before I could speak, Sam jumped in. “First, I just wanted to say thank you, Cameron. Guess I needed rescuing. I really appreciate it.”
I simply nodded. “You’re very welcome. Jason’s a complete and total asshole, so putting him in his place wasn’t exactly a hardship.”
Sam tilted his head to one side, and I found it utterly adorable. “You know him?”
“Knew, past tense.” I flicked some hair off my forehead. “Bad date last year.”
His eyes softened. “I’m so sorry, Cameron.”
God, that man could say my name anytime. I squirmed in my seat before changing the subject. I wasn’t ready to dive into my revelations just yet, so I picked what I hoped would be an easy topic. Ease us into things. “So what do you do, Sam? Besides substitute-teach yoga?”
