Page 29 of The Second Dance

I’m glancing at my phone, thinking up excuses to escape when the Thomas cousins walk in, shaking off the late March chill.

Fucking fantastic.

An audience.

All hopes of blending or hiding go out the window when Ben spots them and gives them a little salute. He glances at me. “It’s Bo and Skyler.”

“Mm-hmm.” I say through gritted teeth, refusing to turn around. Refusing to face them.

“From your class.”

“I know Bo and Skyler.”

He shrugs, using the motion to slide his hand up my thigh. It sails way too high and I throw it off with more force than before.

“Whoa. Hey, relax, Andy.”

I frown at his tone. “I’m going to need you to stop doing that.”

“This?” He gives me a cheeky grin, putting his hand on my knee. “Or this?”

His hand sails higher again. These fucking athletes. They’re the golden boys of the town. They’ve lived their entire lives assuming they can have whatever they want. And apparently, they never outgrow that.

“Stop. Touching. Me.”

He gives my leg an exploratory squeeze. “You really don’t like it?”

“No. She really doesn’t.” I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Its low vibration sends a thrum down my spine.

Ben looks over my shoulder, irritated, but still smiling. “Can I help you, Bo? We’re on a date.”

“Not anymore.” Bo says. He slips his hand around my side and guides me off the stool. I guess everyone thinks they’re supposed to touch me tonight.

Except, I like it when this guy does it.

And I hate that I like it.

Ben holds up his hands, pasting on an innocent smile. “I had to give it a try. But I think the rumor is true.”

As we’re walking away, I crane my head to look at Bo. “What rumor? What’s he talking about?”

He shakes his head angrily. “Don’t worry about it.”

Skyler’s watching us with a moody expression that matches Bo’s.

“Do you want to stay or go home?” Bo asks.

I glance around the bar. I recognize a lot of faces, none of them are friends of mine. “Home, I guess.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

I want to argue with him, but I wouldn’t put it past Ben to follow me out. And obviously that dumb shit doesn’t know the meaning of the wordno.

Bo helps me into my coat, another unnecessary gesture, but I decide to pick my battles.

We step into the chilly night and cross the street to my car. He stops in front of my door, standing in the way. It’s dark here. There’s no moon and the closest light is coming from the faint glow of the neon sign.

“You need to quit dating around.”

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