Page 81 of The Golden Boys
BLUE
Jules and I wait out the long line to buy our tickets. Of course, the moment we step foot inside the dark gym, I spot the devil himself. Like usual, he’s posted between his brothers, but to my disgust, Parker’s glued to his chest. She doesn’t see me yet, but West does.
Somehow, he always manages to find me first, like his default reaction is to be on the lookout for the moment I enter a room.
Stalker.
Even from this distance and with the lights low, I notice everything about him despite Parker partially blocking my view. The tight-fitting, white shirt that buttons down his chest and torso, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, showing his ink. The watch that catches the colorful lights swirling above. The thin, dark tie around his neck.
Even that look in his eyes, challenging me to pretend I feel nothing.
I see you, King Midas. But you don’t run me.
“This puts South Cypress’s dances to shame,” Jules says, cutting into my thoughts.
I smile, having to agree with that. The budget there for things like this may as well be zero.
“Where’s your girl, Lexi?” she asks.
“Home,” I answer with a laugh. “She doesn’t do the social scene thing.”
Jules nods. “Too bad. She seems cool.”
I smile, thinking of how Lexi had my back yesterday, helping me get some small measure of revenge on West.
I scan the room, purposely not lookinghisway. The party is in full swing, seeing as how Jules and I missed half of it because I dragged my feet getting dressed. The dancefloor is flooded, jampacked with bodies moving and grinding to the beat. Bass vibrates my chest and I’m reminded of a time when I used to enjoy things like this.
Back when life was considerably easier.
“Let’s get out there!” she belts over the loud music. “It’ll be fun.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say I’m not in the mood, but as usual, I can’t tell her no. A deep sigh leaves me when I nod, agreeing to yet another measure of torture.
Jules pulls me out to the middle, then her eyes fall closed as she moves in rhythm. I’m kind of stiff, but trying to have fun.
Trying.
Images of Hunter in that jumpsuit—with all those gashes and bruises—keep flashing in my head and I have to force them out. I’ve been pretending to be okay all my life, I can do that again tonight.
I let go just a little. Loosening up, I start to get into it, feeling the B.S. I’ve carried with me all week begin to lift. But then, a second later, I’m no longer dancing alone. A massive body bumps into me from behind and, at first, it seems like an accident, but then large hands have my waist with a confident grip that can’t be ignored. And he smells like a dream.
A wild, hot, sexy dream.
His moves sync up with mine and he’s shamelessly grinding against my ass, taking my breath away. It’s only now that I glance back, and my heart skips a beat.
A Golden boy is definitely behind me, just … not the one I might have expected.
Dane casts a dark smile down on me and I immediately feel conflicted, like I’ve done something wrong. But … that doesn’t make sense. I’m completely single, not attached to anyone. Notobligatedto anyone.
Still, it feels strange.
He must sense that I’m flustered when I freeze up a bit, because he leans toward my ear and slow, deeply spoken words go straight to my head.
“If you want him to own his shit, just go with it.”
My brow tenses with confusion, but I’m not given more of an explanation than that. And as soon as the statement is made, we’re dancing again—close, intimate, steaming hot.
Taking Dane’s lead, I relax, leaning forward just a little, pushing my hips back against him, stillveryconfused about what’s going on.