Page 23 of The Midseason Fakeout

“That’s what makes it so much fun,” she mimics, throwing my words back in my face. “Plus, I remember you guys skinny dipping before.”

I tilt my head at her. I tend to remember who I get naked in front of, and I’m one hundred percent sure I’ve never been naked in front of Bailey.

“You guys went to some party one time when Mom and Dad were out of town and invited girls home afterward.” She plays her hand over the grass and looks away. “I watched from my window.”

“Why didn’t you come down?”

She glares at me. “Yeah, because I really want to see Darrin in the nude. I’d have to bleach my eyes or something.”

She’s got a point there. The idea of her watching from her room like an outsider, though, doesn’t sit well. When she talks about her life with her parents, she makes it sound terrible. “Why were your parents so different with you than Darrin? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Because boys sow their wild oats. I have a reputation to uphold, you know.”

I laugh. “Yeah, a boring one.”

“I’m not boring,” she insists. “I just have the appearance of it.”

Twenty feet away, a group gathers around a Bluetooth speaker. The first few beats of a song blast out, and they all laugh, covering their ears.

Bails nearly jumps and then glances back, a smile forming on her face. I peer from her to the group that has started dancing, and I can’t help but notice the jealousy there. She looks like she wants to do that. Like she’s coming out of her skin she wants to join in so bad.

I push her thigh. “I dare you to go over there and dance,” I tell her, raising my voice so she can hear me above the music.

Her head snaps back to me. “What? No.”

“How come? Doesn’t it look fun?”

“I don’t know them,” she says, her gaze moving back to study them.

I stand. Hell, I don’t know them either, but it’s never stopped me before. “How will you ever meet new people if you don’t join in?”

I reach a hand down to her. She studies it and then meets my gaze. “I don’t think I can.” She puts her hand in mine anyway, so that’s a good step.

Once she’s on her feet, we both face the group. “You’re a dancer, aren’t you? I bet you could put them all to shame.”

She worries her lip. “Ballet. It’s totally different. This is a terrible idea.” A few seconds go by, and she blurts out, “Will you come with me?”

Well, I can’t say no to that. I take her hand, and we walk. The beat starts to pick up, and I double pump her fingers as we approach. She squeezes back, her grip firm and sweaty. As soon as we get there, they notice us and open up their circle. I’m not much of a dancer, but I’m also not shy either. Maybe it’s all these years I’ve had playing in front of a crowd.

My hand swings, and I peer over. Bailey is…dancing. And not just swaying her hips, but jumping up and down, bobbing her head. I join in with her because I really don’t have a choice unless I want to lose my money-maker appendage.

Soon, that song ends, and the next one starts up immediately. One of the girls from the group begins to sing, and before I know it, Bailey is all in, too. Everyone’s singing. Like total crazies, we dance and sing for everyone to see.

More students join in after that, and soon, this part of the quad turns into an impromptu rave.

The best part about it is the smile on Bails’s face. Like pure joy, she’s radiant. I’m so distracted that I almost miss a guy backing up. I pull her away at the last moment, and we dance front-to-front, my fingers migrating over her capris until her ass fits perfectly in my hands.

I mean, I am her boyfriend. I’m supposed to be doing this.

The smile on her face turns serious. Her hips take over, her palms tracing up my chest. When I glance down, her stare is filled with something so familiar—like want.

Desire.

Slowly, she maneuvers her hands lower, her fingers gripping the waistband of my jeans, tugging me closer.

“Someone’s seenDirty Dancing,” I tease, following her lead, letting our hips slide and grind against one another.

“Only my favorite movie.”

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