Page 4 of Jig's Last Dance

As a freshman, you’re already the object of derision for your older classmates, but I solidified that status when I walked right into Cindy Stamford’s back during lunch.

In my defense, I spotted Jig sitting with his friends. He was grinning, his blue, blue eyes sparkling with devilry, and my stomach bottomed out at his brilliance. I couldn’t look away, and I followed him with my eyes across the room until the unfortunate incident.

Cindy ended up with spaghetti all over her new shirt, and I was the sole focus of the entirety of the student body. Of course, she pitched a fit while I stared on in horror.

All of which I could have handled if the object of my fascination hadn’t looked up and met my no doubt fascinated stare just as I committed my faux pas.

His sensual mouth curved into a smile, and he raised a single brow. Meanwhile, I turned an unattractive shade of puce and wished for the ground to open and eat me up.

My wish didn’t come true, and I thought I might go home and smother myself with a pillow rather than face another humiliating day. But as it turned out, later that evening, my world fell apart at the seams, and whatever paltry humiliation I felt disappeared under the grief I carried like a shroud.

I still remember that damn smirk, though, and it followed me in my hormonal teen dreams for years.

Back then, he was a pretty boy with a beautiful smile and he’s only gotten hotter. There’s no denying it. But he’s also dangerous, and I know my limits.

I may enjoy a little reckless fun, but I stay in my lane. To do otherwise would put me in a position I don’t need or want. The world of the mafia is a deadly place to play.

With another harsh swig, I shudder before holding out the bottle, but it’s taken from over my shoulder. My stomach whooshes because I know it’s fucking Jig standing behind me.

The douche has never so much as looked at me sideways in all the years we were in school together beyond that first inglorious introduction. Why is he stalking me now?

“This shit is nasty,” he rumbles, and I scoff, irrationally annoyed by his comment, which is stupid because itisnasty.

I meet Shawn’s questioning stare, and she raises a dark brow before turning to Jig. “Hm, what are you doing here?” she says in her husky, come hither voice.

Jig cocks his head, and her rosy lips curve in a sexy grin. As I look between them, my stomach churns. Shawn sucks guys in and spits them out. Will Jig be immune?

I don’t care, or so I tell myself, but maybe she’s the perfect one to take him on. He could use a little humility.

“What, I can’t party anymore?” Jig asks, stepping against my back.

Once again, I fight the shiver that crawls up my spine because his hard, hot body is like a fucking aphrodisiac, and I’m all too loose with desire as it is. Shit, I’m still pulsing from his hands on my ass.

Shawn’s blue eyes widen, and I step away from Jig with a warning glare in her direction, but she ignores me with a wicked smirk. “You sniffin’ after my girl? Good luck. Alice doesn’t play with the fallen. You feel me?”

“The what?” he asks, his brow furrowing.

“You know,” she says, “goons, crooks, mafiosos . . . thugs.”

Jig’s entire body stiffens, and I don’t have to turn to feel the icy waves exuding from him. Fuck me, but it’s like he turned to damn stone.

Glancing at him sideways, I spy his eyes narrow before he seems to mentally shrug it off, his luscious lips pulling into a grin.

He meets my covert stare and says, “Fallen? You wanna come and play with me on the dark side, baby?”

His playful tone brings a smile to my lips, but I hide it behind a grimace and huff, flipping my hair over my shoulder. Jig’s gaze drops, and he grabs a strand between his fingers.

His eyes light up, and I look away because my stomach is all fluttery—not good.

“Does the carpet match the drapes?” he asks.

“Huh?” I scrunch my nose before it hits me. “Dick!”

He skips away from my raised fist with a grin, and I scowl, heat suffusing my cheeks.

“Well?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

Squirming under the heat of his gaze, I say, “If you’re asking me if I’m a natural blonde, the answer is yes.”

---