Page 75 of Dear #47, You're the Worst
“Teasing me. All night.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But her smile says otherwise.
“The way you dance. The way you look at me. Pushing that guy toward Ivy just to see my reaction.”
“And what if I were?”
Before I can second-guess myself, I cup her face and kiss her. She melts into me immediately, her hands fisting in my shirt. I want to fuckingdevourher.
When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“Hunter—”
“I know this is fake,” I say against her lips. “But right now, I don’t care.”
She stares up at me, pupils dilated. “What are you saying?”
That I want to drag her out of this club. How desperately I want to find the nearest hallway and press her against the wall. I want to slide my hands under that tiny skirt and make her forget her own name.
“I’m saying?—”
“Oh my God!” Wren’s voice cuts through the music as she stumbles toward us, clearly hammered. “You two are so cute!”
The moment shatters. Juliet steps back, smoothing her dress, and I run a hand through my hair.
Ryan appears, looking apologetic. “Sorry, she got away from me.”
“Did you see them kissing?” Wren asks loudly, pointing at us. “It was like a movie!”
“Okay, party animal,” Ryan says, scooping her up. “Time to go home.”
“But the night is young!” Wren protests as he throws her over his shoulder.
“I’m not a lightweight! I’m fun!”
“You’re drunk.”
“This is so embarrassing.” Wren giggles. “But also kind of hot.”
Ryan’s face goes red as everyone laughs. “Thanks for including her tonight. She needed this.”
“Anytime,” Juliet says warmly. “Text when you get home safe.”
As they leave, I look back at Juliet. Although the spell broke, the heat between us was still simmering under the surface.
“We should probably—” she starts.
“Yeah. We should.”
But neither of us moves for a long moment, the music pounding around us, the tension thick enough to cut.
The night continues around us in a blur of music and laughter. Fans start flooding the VIP section despite security, and I get increasingly protective as random guys try to approach our group.
“How the hell did they get past security?” Thorne mutters.
“Social media,” Grayson says grimly. “Someone posted our location.”
One particularly aggressive fan pushes too close to me. “Hunter! You can chainsaw me anytime!” she shouts, grabbing at my arm.
