Page 8 of Riding the High

Cole leans back and folds his thick arms behind his head, relaxed and ready to watch me thoroughly embarrass myself. But he should never underestimate my willingness to beat him at his own game. I smooth down my tank and take my place in the middle of the room.

“Atta girl.” He grins.

The beat kicks in and I throw him a small smile.

This is about to become the sexiest macarena dance he’s ever seen, all in a plot to make him uncomfortable as hell and call it off.

I slink closer to stand right in front of Cole’s legs. I cock a hip, and as I pull my hair out of its bun, it falls down around my shoulders. Then I blow a real slow kiss at him.

“The fuck are you doing?” he asks, recoiling. Shock lines his face.Excellent.

“What you asked, darlin’,” I say sweetly. “Just playing out my dare.”

Cole’s throat bobs as he swallows, hard, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me.

I begin to roll my hips smoothly to the beat, the steps ingrained in my memory. The dance doesn’t call for a sexy hip roll, but like I said, he asked for it.

I extend my arms, palms down, palms up, palms to my shoulders, the back of my head, giving him the sexiest gaze I can. I’m staring into this man’s goddamn soul. I look right at him and move as seductively as possible, crossing one arm to my left hip then the other to my right. His hazy gaze takes hold of me for a split second and, for a moment, it feels as though he’s reeling me in as much as I am him.

I force myself to look away, tossing my hair around like I’m dancing for grocery money. I swear I hear Cole gulp and I smile internally.Perfect.

I watch my own movements carefully then look up to meet his gaze.

One hand to my left ass cheek, one to my right with a loud snap. I roll my hips slowly, and part my lips. I wait for him to call it, but my plan is backfiring because Cole doesn’t tell me to stop.

Instead, his eyes are dark and stormy, and they’re raking over me with a vengeance. I’ve never seen him look atmelike this before. The dance that was meant to be a joke continues because I’m more stubborn than he is, though this is quickly becoming the riskiest game of chicken I’ve ever played. Cole’s body is tense as the singer croons the chorus. I complete a jump to swivel my ass right in front of where Cole sits. He clears his throat and stands, finally giving in before I do.

“Alright, fuck,enough,” he growls.

I stop dutifully and start laughing, knowing I pushed the weirdness level too far but not giving a shit. He deserved it.

“Always gotta win, don’t you?” he asks, running a hand through his hair.

I point the remote, nixing the hideous song, and put our favorite show back on.

Ginger 1–Cole 0.

“Always, Law Daddy,” I answer, pretending the way he just looked at me didn’t settle right into my memory for all eternity. “Always.”

CHAPTER THREE

Ginger

“Favor?” I ask in a squeaky voice. Considering it’s the middle of the night, I’m sure he already knows what that favor is.

I hear the sound of his latest fling ask who it is.Shit.

I continue giving him a plethora of excuses.

“He’s wasted and I didn’t … I mean, I’m not calling my dad. I’d rather hitch-hike.” I pull my phone away from my ear and check the battery. Twelve percent.

Please say yes …

“How many times have I told you not to rely on him? You know he’s gonna get shit-faced and either leave you hanging or pass out.”

I should’ve known I couldn’t call Cole Ashby for a ride without a lecture. As if I need it. I know my boyfriend Silas is a dick, especially when he drinks. I blame his chiseled abs. All he has to do is flash them and I lose all train of thought. Plus, being the girlfriend of a soon-to-be University of Kentucky football star has its perks. Namely the envy of every mean girl at school that’s ever called me fat or made fun of my hair, my braces or my height.

“I don’t need a lecture right now, Cole. I need a ride. Can you come, or do I have to hitch-hike?”

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