Page 112 of Skate the Line

“Millie.”

I hear a grunt of laughter from beside me. It’s Malaki. We make eye contact, and he smashes his lips, looking elsewhere.

Millie?

Nerves work their way into my stomach. It was a defense mechanism. Simon doesn’t need to know my real name just in case he ever decides to look me up after this.

“Here’s your reminder of what you do to a man, Millie.”

Confusion settles against my face when he pulls me toward him again. I’m flush against his front. My pulse skyrockets withhis hands guiding me to move against him. The ridge of his hard length grates against the curve of my butt, and considering I haven’t been with a guy in quite a while, it awakens something. Heaving breaths leave him, coating the side of my neck.

“Want to go get a drink?” His voice is ragged.

“Yeah.” I’m out of breath. “A drink would be good.”

I let him lead me to the end of the bar toward the bathroom.

Rhodes’s earlier point drives in further with the heat in my belly and tinge of alcohol in my blood.Most twenty-six-year-olds get lucky on their birthday.

“What are you drinking?” Simon asks.

I stare at him.

He stares at me.

Then he drops his gaze to my mouth.

Anticipation crawls down my spine, but if I don’t try to push past it, then I’m afraid I never will.

Simon grabs my hand, and I let him pull me toward the bathrooms.

The hue of the club starts to dissipate, and my confidence wavers.

You’re fine.

I think about all the drunken makeout sessions in college bar bathrooms that I’ve had and the times when things went further.

But that was all before…

Simon waits until the passerby, a girl with glassy eyes, disappears into the bathroom before advancing. Suddenly, I’m pressed against the wall with his jean-clad leg in between mine.

He grabs my face, and my pulse flies.

“You’re fucking sexy, Millie.”

Millie?

Oh yeah, that’s me.

His mouth hovers over mine, and I think I’m finally ready to break the streak, but then he grabs my wrists. He pins them both above my head, and I freeze.

I do nothing while he kisses me.

It’s like I’m paralyzed.

I tug on his grip, but he’s either too drunk to feel it or doesn’t care.

My lungs constrict, and I start to shake.

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