I sigh. “I know so.”
Cat steps between us and puts her hands on our chests. “Now, boys, we can all dance.”
“No!” we both say at the same time.
Cat grins and shrugs. “Fine. I’ll dance on my own.”
Then she twirls off and ends up in the crowd of people in front of the stage.
“Not cool, man,” the guy says.
“Fuck off.” I push past him, once again in pursuit.
Cat
Is it wrong that I’m enjoying myself?
Is it wrong that I’m worried there’s something wrong with enjoying myself?
Before I can get tangled in these thoughts, I push them away. When the singer starts singing “Shout,” I throw myself into the music.
I can think later. Right now I want to dance and be free.
Just as I’m jumping up and screaminghey hey hey heyat the top of my lungs, strong arms wrap around my waist and pull me close. Satisfaction sweeps through me when I breathe in Caden’s spicy, masculine scent.
I’d recognize him everywhere.
Still swaying, I rest against his chest.
He bends his head, and his lips brush over my neck. “You done trying to make me jealous?”
His breath on my overheated skin makes me shiver. I laugh. “Maybe I just wanted to dance.”
His palm flattens against my belly. “I said I’d dance with you.”
“You did, but Junior got there first.”
“I got there way before that child.”
I look up at him. “I don’t think you were jealous anyway.”
He brushes a thumb under the curve of my breast. “You think you know everything.”
“But I’m not wrong about this,” I press, because I want to press, want to get to the truth of him, the one he’s hiding behind the mask of calm civility.
He looks down at me before turning me to face him. “I’m not jealous in the way you’re envisioning, because I know that little show was all about me anyway.”
I wrinkle my nose at him, irritated he’s seen past my ruse so easily.
He puts his hand around my neck. “Doesn’t mean I liked him touching you.” His head dips. “I want to be the one touching you.”
Before I can stop the words, they’re out of my mouth. “It doesn’t feel that way.”
His head snaps back. “What?”
I’m stuck now, and I think about diverting, but realize I don’t want to. I want it out in the open and out of my head. That way I can figure out what direction to turn.
Maybe that’s the alcohol talking, but it seems right.