by Rhonda Helms
Megan had advised me to just keep it casual tonight in our communication. To let Daniel pursue me—don’t push him away but don’t make it easy for him either. Apparently, guys liked the chase. I wasn’t sure how readily I believed that. Then again, it had certainly been true with my granddad.
At any rate, I was supposed to play it cool and slowly show my interest throughout the night if I was feeling it. This I could totally do—I had distance down to an art form.
He whipped the tickets out from his back pocket with a dramatic flourish and handed me mine. “It’s standing room only, of course. This is the opening act—some local band. Can’t remember their name.”
I nodded and fought the urge to smooth my hand over my hair. Megan had also told me I needed to appear self-assured, in my outfit, my hair, my makeup. To know that I looked good. That was going to be much harder. But I could fake it at least.
I hoped.
He stepped beside me; the fresh scent of his cologne filled my nostrils, made me a little heady. For one impulsive second I wanted to press close to him again, breathe him in deeply. He put his hand on the small of my back, and tiny fissures of pleasure snaked out across my skin from the unassuming touch. Even through my tank I felt the pressure of his warm fingers.
If I was reacting this strongly to him based on his cologne and an innocent touch, how was I going to get through this night without embarrassing myself?
I could feel the firm line of his body right behind me as we made our way into the line. People jostled and laughed, waving arms and talking loudly over the loud beat of the music. I got bumped into a few times, with one elbow pressing against the left side of my belly. A twinge of phantom pain made me pause. My chest tightened a fraction, and I drew in a few slow breaths.
Instantly I pushed back on that panic, made myself relax and focus on the moment. Not here. I was fine. I was healed and not in physical pain anymore, and nothing was wrong with me.
“Sorry about the crowd,” Daniel whispered in my ear from behind me. “It’s pretty crazy.” His warm strength surrounded me, cocooned me from the crowd, and I clung to his scent and his words and his presence, let them fill me and distract me.
It worked. My chest finally eased up, and I gave him a grateful smile. We made it to the front of the line and handed our tickets over, and then we were shown inside.
The crowd was huge. Bigger than any of the ones I’d seen at my club. It was intimidating, wholly maddening for a few minutes. Daniel must have sensed my fear, because he skirted me along the outer edges to a free spot along the brick wall, where there were only a few people. I drew in a relieved breath.
“I’m going to get us something to drink,” he said. His hand brushed against my elbow, and I felt a shiver of longing skitter across my flesh. I gave a mute nod and watched him saunter away.
I couldn’t tear my eyes off him until he disappeared into the crowed. The air was thick and heavy but not as overbearing as I’d feared; small pockets of cool air streamed from vents in the ceiling. I glanced around for the first time and really made myself take it all in. I saw lots of smiles and laughs, people dancing sexy, dancing goofy, doing the robot.
The band was decent. Some kind of techno style with a guy singing, a guy working percussion and another running the digital sounds in the background off a unit. The lyrics were simple but catchy, and I found myself starting to sway in place.
No one was looking at me. I was just another face in the building, another lover of music. The tension unwound in my torso, seeped from my limbs as I let myself feel the melody.
A few minutes later, Daniel showed up, a beer in one hand and a plastic cup of ice water—with lemon—in the other. He handed it to me. “Here ya go.”
He remembered. A small thing, but it made something in my heart twinge in response. I swallowed a big, refreshing gulp. “This is perfect. Thank you.”
We stood side by side for a while, drinking, absorbing the atmosphere. It was a comfortable silence between us, woven together with the music, a brief comment here or there about whatever song was currently on.
The band played their last song, and electronic dance music filled the loudspeakers as the headlining DJ worked on getting his equipment up and running.
“Are you enjoying it so far?” Daniel asked me.
I leaned in close; I could barely hear him because the music was so loud. “I am!” I shouted. I knew there was a huge grin on my face, partly because I was actually liking the atmosphere. And partly because of him.
Okay, mostly because of him.
“So, what made you choose Smythe-Davis to go to school?” he asked, taking a long draw from his bottle.
“It’s fairly close to where my grandparents live,” I admitted, hoping that didn’t sound lame. But that was a key factor. “I also got some academic scholarship money, which helped too.”
He nodded. “My family lives a little south of the Cleveland area. I like being close enough to visit them when I want but far enough away that I can make my own life. I really enjoy North-east Ohio.”
“Taken any interesting pictures lately?” I asked, remembering our conversation in the car. And then our kiss. My cheeks burned.
His lips parted just slightly as he looked down at my mouth, and I licked my own in a nervous response. Obviously he was remembering it too. My pulse picked up again.
“Well, this weekend I hung out around University Circle, near the art museum. I also went to the cultural gardens,” he said. “I saw a few little kids dancing in a dirty water puddle—they were muddy as hell, caked up to their eyeballs, and didn’t care. It was cute.”
Part of me was relieved he hadn’t commented on our kiss. And part of me had been hoping he would. God, I was all over the place. What was with me? I wanted it, I didn’t want it. I was driving myself insane with this confusion.
“I’ll show you some pictures later if you want,” he continued. “Several are on my phone.”
The music shut off, and we turned our attention to the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen!” a deep voice cried out from behind the DJ booth. “I’m DJ Enrique. Let’s get this shit going!”
The crowd roared, and hands went immediately in the air. Apparently DJ Enrique had quite a following. I turned my attention to him, watching how he interacted with the crowd. He was engaging, magnetic. His hair was cropped close, and I could see his thick slash of eyebrows even from here. The headphones were cupped around his neck, one pressed to his ear as he started.
A seductive, heavy bass throbbed through the speakers, and the crowd began to dance. He layered several electronic instrumentals over it but let the bass be the main line. I liked it instantly.
“This song is great!” Daniel said, taking another swig of his drink. He finished the last of his beer and tossed it in a nearby garbage can. Then he took the empty cup out of my hand, propped it on a small table littered with empty bottles and slipped his hand into mine. “Let’s dance.”
My heart stuttered. “Oh, no, I really couldn’t—”
“Just one,” he said, leaning so close I could smell him again, that rich scent interweaving with the music, with the heat in the room.
My body began to throb in response to his proximity, to the erotic undertones of the song. I’d never danced in front of other people—at least, not since I was a little kid, uncaring about where my limbs went flying or how I looked.
The corner of his mouth turned up, and that damned dimple made an appearance “One dance,” he repeated.
For whatever reason, I found myself nodding. I let him pull me to the very edge of the dancing crowd; at least he didn’t force me into the middle, where I’d be way too nervous. He loosely rested a hand around the curve of my right hip and started moving. I stood for a second, then began to sway too.
So awkward. I felt like I was all limbs, stiff and robotic. My throat tightened up and I stopped.
“Close your eyes,” he said to me, warmth pouring from his face. “You’re overthinking it—I can see it in y
our eyes. Close ’em. Just feel it.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Trust me.”
The words were simple, but I knew he was right. I sighed and did as he suggested, shutting everyone else out. For several long moments I focused on the heavy beat, Daniel’s scent, the slight pressure of his hand on my hip.
The world faded from me, and I started to sway. Music wove itself into me, into that blissful place where I escaped, into those moments that made me the happiest. I found my arms starting to raise over my head as I got caught up in the blind sensations I was experiencing.
Before I knew it, the heat from Daniel’s body poured toward mine as we moved closer together, a fraction at a time. My nipples brushed against his chest, my pelvis bumping his. I resolutely kept my eyes closed, though my body instantly responded with a telltale tightening, tingling. He didn’t push me, though, didn’t try to tug me closer. He let it be. His fingers squeezed ever so slightly on my hip, and something deep in my core intensified in response.
I inched toward him and peeked open my eyes to find his locked on my face, his pupils so wide his eyes were nearly black.
My lips parted; my heart slammed against my rib cage. I let one arm fall to my side and the other drape over his shoulder, which drew us even closer together. His hand slid to my lower back, but still he didn’t pull me against him. Neither of us spoke, but our shared silence was potent with emotions.
He was letting me dictate the terms, decide how fast I wanted us to proceed. A heady rush of power swept through me. I could see in his eyes, in the erratic flutter of his throat, that he wanted me. And my own pulse beat in time with his. Music poured between and around and through us. My breath became ragged.
I rested my hand on his hip so that our bodies were flush. He swallowed, then dropped his mouth to press a sweet kiss against my forehead. The gesture was so strangely tender that I found my throat closing again.
Someone bumped into my back, then moved away with a muffled apology. I’d been so wrapped up in him that I’d hardly noticed anything around me. But now I realized we’d moved deeper into the crowd, submerged fully now. It was liberating to just get wrapped up in the moment.
I lived my life on the other end of the DJ booth, watching but never a part of it. Controlling the music while I worked but never letting it sink beneath my skin.
The music suddenly dropped into a heavy beat. Daniel smiled and threw his hands up, and I did the same. Arms shot up all around us as people ground and danced with abandon to the song.
And I got it.
Now that I was inside it, among the writhing masses . . . I could suddenly see why people love going to The Mask to dance. What made them come back for more, let down their hair and give everything they had into the song. There was something wildly intoxicating about letting myself fall into the music this way, surrounded by others doing the same. A group madness, one I had craved without even realizing it.
Our bodies moved against each other, and a languid swell of sensuality filled me. I was fluid, light-headed, pulsing with a dark desire to be closer to him. He wrapped both hands around my waist and brushed his lips against my brow, the shell of my ear, the curve of my throat. I arched against him, rubbing my thumbs along the waistband of his jeans.
I ached.
His mouth moved down to lick the sweat-tinged flesh of my shoulder, and I bit back a moan. My lower belly thrummed in response. He gave a muffled groan and looked at me, piercing me with his stare. Desire was etched clearly in his face. I knew it was in mine too.
My heart raced hard, fast, tapping a beat that throbbed in my limbs, roared in my ears. I felt the length of his arousal pressed against me, and for one wicked moment I wanted to touch him there. To see how hard he could get for me. How hard I could make him.
I sucked in a ragged breath and shook my head. This was moving too fast. I was going to drown in these emotions if I didn’t pull back. God, I was so tempted by him. Tempted and yet also petrified. I couldn’t let my desire make me lose my focus.
I remembered what had happened the last time I’d gotten carried away with him, his fingers so perilously close to my terrible secret.
I pulled back and wiped at the sweat slicking my brow. “I’m . . . warm. I’m going to step outside.”
He froze, his hands stopping their soft caress of my back through my tank. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, yes. Fine. I’m fine, thanks.” I was stumbling over my words. The weight of the music, the crowd pressed in on me, and I struggled to draw in a fresh breath of air. “I just . . . I’m sorry.” I pushed through the crowd and made my way to the door.
The air was warm but not tinged with sweat; I drew in a deep breath as I made my way to the sidewalk, where no one else was standing. Another. My skin was coated in perspiration, built up from the steaminess of the room, the body heat. My own stupid arousal for Daniel.
How the hell had I let my defenses down so easily?
Somehow I lost my mind around him. It scared me how quickly I would drop my guard, let him get close.
“Casey?” His quiet voice came from behind me. The music didn’t reach us a lot over here, so he didn’t have to speak loud.
I reined in my rampant emotions and turned to face him, a polite smile plastered on my face. “Sorry. I’m sorry—I just, it was hot, and the crowd . . .” And my own feelings had overwhelmed me. . . .
“Do you like me?” he suddenly asked.
I blinked. I hadn’t expected that. “Um, what?”
He stepped closer, though he maintained space between us. Not pushing me, again. Being thoughtful, again. A pinch of shame twisted my heart.
“I’m getting mixed signals from you and I can’t quite tell how you feel,” he said. “Sometimes I feel like you don’t want to be anywhere near me. Especially when things start getting a little . . .” He paused. “Hot.”
My face flushed. I opened my mouth to speak, but he kept going.
“But sometimes . . . when you just let go and let us happen, it seems like you feel the same way I do. And I just wanted to know, wanted to hear it from your own mouth.”
Chapter 9
Daniel’s intense gaze ripped me down to the core. In that moment I knew he saw the entirety of me, my fears and desire and self-loathing and fakeness at pretending like everything was just fine. And it totally wasn’t. Not even close to it.
All my tension, my sexual fearfulness and panic, churned in my gut. I blurted out, “Yes, I do like you. But I don’t want to.” Instantly I wished I could take those words back. Because that wasn’t quite what I meant—at least, not the way I wanted to say it.
His face fell just a touch, but I saw his eyes dim. The corners of his mouth turn down. “Why don’t you want to like me?” There wasn’t self-pity in his voice, despite the look on his face. Just genuine curiosity.
A group of girls walked by, giggling. Two of them slid their gazes to Daniel, running up and down his physique. My chest squeezed with that tic of jealousy again. I knew what I was feeling and I couldn’t deny it. I wanted him and didn’t want to want him. But I didn’t want anyone else to have him. Ugh.
He ignored the girls, keeping his attention fixed on me.
Daniel wanted to know why I was so nervous about liking him. But right now I wanted to know why he was still here. Why wasn’t he backing away, running into the night to escape the jacked-up girl who blew hot and cold with him? Spending his time with someone a little more whole and normal?
Daniel chuckled, and the tension in his upper torso leaked away as he shook his head. I flinched in surprise at the sound, shocked once again by his reaction. “Look, I don’t want to ruin this awesome night,” he finally said, reaching over to take my hand. His thumb caressed my thin skin, and shivers of excitement skittered across my flesh. “I’ve had a lot of fun with you tonight. Let’s just go inside and chill. We can dance or just people-watch, whatever you want. No pressure, no promises.”
The tightness in my torso leak
ed away and I drew in my first real breath since I’d panicked on the dance floor. Did he mean it? What was with the change of heart? “Are you sure?” I asked, hesitation clear in my voice.
“I just wanna have fun and spend time with you. That’s all.” He stepped a few inches closer, studying my eyes to see my reaction. He seemed sincere.
I swallowed. Finally nodded. He’d been a true gentleman, not making me feel ashamed for my freak-outs. Okay, I could see something deep inside him wanted to push me a bit more, to make me talk to him about whatever the hell was wrong with me. But perhaps he knew this wasn’t the right time. Regardless of the reason, I was relieved at the reprieve.
Daniel led me back inside.
The rest of the night was not as awkward as I’d been afraid it might be. The DJ kept the tunes going. Daniel and I stuck to the periphery of the crowd, doing that standing-dance thing as I drank more water and he had another beer. He didn’t press me to talk or dance, though I did catch him looking at me out of the corner of his eye a couple of times.
Words were right there on the tip of his tongue, I could tell, but he bit them back.
It was well after two in the morning when the concert ended. While I’d had a lot of fun, I was exhausted. The emotions, the sexual tension, everything had drained me, and I was ready to shower, slip into bed and go to sleep.
Daniel walked me to my car. “Is it okay if I follow you home? I . . .” A slight blush crawled up his throat as he swallowed. “I just wanna make sure you get there okay. It’s late.”
His awkwardness was endearing. I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded my response. Emotion closed my windpipe. I stood in front of my car door and reached a hand up, caressing his cheek for the briefest of moments before dropping my hand.
Daniel followed me back to my place. When I pulled into the lot, I stepped out of my car. He pulled in a few spots down, his car engine clicking as he strolled toward me. His smile was wide and genuine. “Thanks for going with me,” he said.
A cooler breeze ruffled his hair, cooled the last lingering sweat on the back of my throat, the small of my back and between my breasts. “Thank you for inviting me.”