Page 71 of Heated Rivalry 1
Shane nodded at him awkwardly and received a slow, absurdly sexy smile in return. Shane looked away quickly and moved to sit next to Rose.
“Good game tonight,” Rose said.
“Oh, thanks. You watched?”
She smiled apologetically. “I wish. We just finished filming for the day a couple of hours ago. I was checking the score on my phone, though!”
She took his hand and squeezed it, then pulled it over to rest on her knee. It was probably as natural as anything for her, but Shane felt like everyone was just staring at their joined hands.
What is wrong with me?
A server appeared and Shane ordered a beer. Everyone else seemed to be drinking vodka. He was definitelynotgoing to get intothatshit tonight.
They sat and drank and talked for over an hour as the club filled up. Rose’s voice was noticeably hoarse from shouting over the music. Shane had barely said ten words; he just enjoyed listening to everyone else and laughing when someone made a joke. When he couldn’t follow the conversation, he sipped his second beer, watched the dance floor, and stole a few glances at Miles.
Which was dumb because Shane was here withRose Landry.
“Come dance with me!” Rose exclaimed suddenly. She stood up and tried to pull Shane with her.
“Oh,” Shane said. “No... I, uh...”
“Comeon. I never get to dance!”
“That is a lie,” Miles laughed.
“Well, I want to dance with Shane.”
Shane heard Miles say something that sounded a lot like “That makes two of us,” but he couldn’t be sure over the music.
Shane surrendered and put his beer bottle on the table. He stood and allowed Rose to lead him to the dance floor.
Shane really, really needed to up his fashion game. Hanging out with Rose and her friends made him feel like a slob, and being on the dance floor only emphasized how uninspired his wardrobe was. He had made an effort tonight, but his deep plum polo and dark blue pants seemed kind of basic. His sneakers were nice, though.
Rose put her arms around his neck and they danced. Or, at least,shedanced. She was stunning, and she moved to the music with so much carefree joy. Shane was mesmerized.
Most of the girls on the dance floor seemed more like... Rozanov’s type. Or, at least, what he was pretty sure Rozanov was into, based on photos that Shane had seen on the internet completely by accident and not because he sometimes did image searches for Ilya Rozanov. He could easily imagine Ilya flirting with any one (or two) of the array of blonde, tanned girls with dark eyelashes and shimmery lips.
He wondered what Ilya was doing tonight. Had he been...disappointed...that they hadn’t hooked up?
WasShanedisappointed?
Rose flicked her dark hair around and laughed. “I love this song!” she yelled.
Shane smiled back. He had no idea what song it was. He kept his fingers on Rose’s waist—barely touching—as she closed her eyes and slid a hand down his chest.
Shane understood what was supposed to be happening here. He was supposed to be...escalating things. Touching her, teasing her. Making her want him. And then they would kiss and press closer together and...
So why wasn’t he?
Ilya headed straight for the dance floor as soon as they entered the club. It was late and the place was packed. A quick scan of the place told him that there were plenty of good options. Plenty of gorgeous girls who could take his mind off Shane stupid Hollander.
Wait.
It was impossible not to spot Rose Landry on the dance floor. Even in this crowd, she stood out.
And it only took him a second longer to realize the man she had her arms around—who had hishandson herwaist—was Shane Hollander.
Fuck it.
