She may not realize she’s doing it—though I doubt she doesn’t—Denise invites me in. Every time.
Whether she’s making it known that she’s aware that I’m watching her by grinning and purposely doing shit to keep my eyes glued on her. Or even the way she steps closer to me. Like she thinks I either won’t notice or won’t do anything about it.
I don’t want to be just another guy that looks at Denise and only sees that she’s beautiful.
We stare at each other for a moment. Not being able to take the sight of her on her knees in front of me without gettingthe urge to watch me fuck her mouth, I reach my hand down, holding it out for her to take.
She does without any arguing. For once.
“I was waiting for you,” I admit when we’re face to face.
She chuckles, caught off guard. “What?”
“The guys were teasing me because I kept watching the front door, waiting for you to walk in.”
“Why?”
I shrug, like it’s a fact she should know by now. “Because I’d rather be talking to you than anyone else here.”
Her eyes widen for a split second before they narrow, as if that’s such a foreign concept. That someone would look forward to talking to her.
But recently it’s all I’ve been talking about.
I crave her goddamn attention.
I don’t care whether it comes in the shape of her mocking me. Laughing at me. Telling me straight to my face that she wants nothing to do with me. Because as long as her eyes are on me, it soothes the ache in my chest and buzzing in my hands.
Shit, I’d take her humiliating me in front of everyone at this damn party if it meant I had her sole attention.
Her face softens for a moment as she wraps her arms around my waist and her chin rests on my chest, looking up at me. There’s no teasing grin or mischievous gaze—she’s just simply looking at me without feeling the need to perform.
“Well, I’m here now.” She smiles.
Yeah, she is. And now I feel like I can finally breathe.
Eleven
Lucas
She’s back to testing me.
I don’t know what happened between the moment in the hallway and listening to Moose and Bethany talk each other’s ears off like they’ve known each other for years.
But that soft expression Denise wore for all of ten minutes is quickly replaced with crossed arms and constant eye rolls. She also feels the need to throw in a few little jabs at me here and there.
“Stop standing so close. You’re all sweaty.”
“You call this a drink, Callahan?”
I take her complaints and simply grin because I don’t think she has any fucking idea how much her whining turns me on.
Or maybe she does and that’s why she’s doing it.
I lean against the wall, arms crossed and a shit-eating grin on my face. Denise turns away from whatever conversation she pretends to be listening to, but she clearly doesn’t give a shit about what the girl hanging off Preston’s arm is saying.
Mariah, the girl, talks about some overseas trip she and her friends are planning to take over the summer. She sits perched in Preston’s lap, who unlike everyone else around, doesn’tpretend to give a shit. Like he knows this girl is going home with him regardless.
I scoff at the confidence in this dude.