Page 79 of Guarded Love

We all clink our drinks together, but I notice Blaise's eyes stay on me even as he touches his beer bottle to everyone else's. The drinks disappear faster than I expected. The pina colada is dangerously smooth, and the tropical sweetness masks whatever rum content is making my limbs feel loose and warm. Madison drains her pink concoction and immediately starts swaying to the reggaetón beat that's practically vibrating through the floor.

"I need to dance," she announces, grabbing Tyler's arm. "Come on, you're my partner."

Tyler panics. "I don't really?—"

"Everyone can dance to this," Madison insists, already pulling him toward the crowded dance floor. "It's just moving to the beat!"

I watch them disappear into the mass of bodies, Madison's coral dress a bright splash of color as she spins Tyler around. He's laughing despite himself, and I can't help but smile at how she's managed to drag him out of his shell.

That's when David strikes.

"Perfect timing," he says, moving to stand directly in front of me. "Now we can have a dance."

I'm about to decline—politely but firmly—when I catch sight of Blaise over David's shoulder. He's gripping his beer bottle so tightly his knuckles have gone white. His jaw is clenched, and there's something dark and possessive in his eyes as he watches David lean closer to me.

The rational part of my brain knows I should say no. Should maintain the boundaries I've been trying to establish all day. But the irrational part, the part that's been wound tight since the rainforest, since that moment against the tree, wants to see what happens if I push.

"You know what?" I hear myself saying, my eyes still locked on Blaise. "Sure. Let's dance."

Blaise's expression shifts so quickly I almost miss it. The careful control he's maintained all evening cracks, just for a second, and what I see underneath makes my stomach nearly leave my body. Jealousy.

David's face lights up like he's won the lottery. "Really? Great!" He sets down his drink and extends his hand. "Come on, let's get out there."

I take his hand but keep watching Blaise. His beer bottle hits the bar with more force than necessary, and I see him take a step forward before stopping himself.

Perfect.

David leads me onto the dance floor and immediately pulls me closer than I'd prefer, his hands finding my waist as he tries to guide me into some approximation of salsa.

"You're a natural," he says, spinning me around clumsily.

I'm not really listening to him. Over his shoulder, I can see Blaise standing at the edge of the dance floor, his eyes tracking every move we make. When David dips me slightly, Blaise's jaw tightens. When David's hand slides lower on my back, I watch Blaise's control fracture a little more.

"This is fun," David continues, pulling me against him as the song shifts to something slower and more sensual. "I knew you'd be a good dancer."

His hand is definitely too low now, resting just above the curve of my ass. I should move it, should create distance, but I'm too focused on the way Blaise is staring at us. At me.

I turn away and look at my dance partner for a second. He gives me that award-winning smile just before I speak. "David," I start, finally ready to establish some boundaries.

But before I can finish the sentence, I hear, "Mind if I cut in?" Blaise's voice is calm, and I know it’s bullshit. I look over at himimmediately and know my plan worked. After all, Madison did say something about simple isn’t working for us, right?

David looks up, clearly annoyed by the interruption. "Actually, we were just?—"

"I wasn't asking you," Blaise says, his eyes never leaving mine. "I was being polite."

The threat in his tone is unmistakable. David's hands fall away from my waist immediately.

"Right. Sure. Of course." David steps back, hands raised in surrender. "All yours, man."

Blaise moves into the space David vacated, and suddenly the entire dance floor shrinks to just the two of us. His hands settle on my waist, firm and possessive, and I have to remind myself to breathe.

"That was rude," I say.

"Was it?" His thumbs trace small circles against my hip bones through the thin fabric of my dress. "Or was it necessary?"

The music shifts again, something slower and more intimate. Blaise pulls me closer, and I don't resist. Our bodies align perfectly, and I can feel the tension radiating off him in waves.

"You're jealous," I observe, my hands coming up to rest against his chest.

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