Page 19 of Forecheck
Mitch offered me a wide, warm smile. “Thank you. I take it you’re Berkley.”
“I sure am.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet the girl who has our boy so spun out.”
Next to me, Brent groaned, but I was openly pleased that I wasn’t the only one whose friends embarrassed them for no good reason.
“I fucking hate you,” Brent said to Mitch, giving me an apologetic look that fell somewhere between a smile and a grimace. “I’m not spun out,” he added to me. “I just…want to get to know you.”
Internally, I was screaming and jumping for joy. Outwardly, I merely winked.
“I think we can make that happen.”
For tonight, anyway.
I’m not saying it made sense, but for tonight, I could fully slide into the costume I wore and be someone else. I could forget about law school and my career aspirations. I could forget about my shitty dating history and how badly I’d been hurt before. I could even forget about the fact that Brent had heartbreak written all over him in the form of dark hair, light eyes, and sexy tattoos. Tonight, he wasn’t NHL star Brent Jean and I wasn’t some random nobody. For tonight, I could simply be a girl, basking in the attention of a charming and attractive man.
Brent opened his mouth to say something, but the opening notes of “C’Mon” by Ke$ha pounded through the speakers, injecting me with a shot of pure nostalgia. As one of our favorite pregame songs, me and my friends had listened to it on repeat in college before going to our favorite dive bar in downtown EL.
As if I’d summoned her, Lexie approached our group, and introductions between her and Mitch were made. Maybe I imagined it, or maybe I was reading too much into things thanks to my own fantasies coming to life with Brent at my side, but I swear I detected something spark to life between the two of them.
Before I could examine it further, Amelia’s excited scream sounded from somewhere across the room, and I looked to Brent apologetically.
“I’m sorry!” I shouted as Lexie tugged me toward the dance floor. “I’ll be back!”
I passed through the crush of bodies until I was in the center of the crowd and unleashed myself. With my girls around me, I shook and shimmied to the beat, letting my instincts lead me.Every thought eddied out of my head as I lost myself to the music.
One song bled into the next, and still I danced.
Kimber left and returned with a fresh round of drinks, and I was unbothered by the splashes on my toes as I continued to move.
Hands snaked around my waist, and I briefly stiffened before the scent I’d already come to associate with Brent—clean and crisp with a hint of spiciness—settled around me.
“This okay?” he asked, voice husky in my ear.
“God, yes,” I breathed. “More than.”
I should be embarrassed by how freely the words left me, but all I felt was a sense of rightness settling over me.
Brent and I swayed to the beat of an Ice Spice chart-topper, followed by another rap hit by someone I didn’t recognize.
On and on the music played, and still, Brent and I danced.
Right when I was about to turn to Brent and tell him I needed a break, “Faithfully” by Journey came on, and when he spun me to face him, his arms wrapping tight around my middle and pulling me close, I figured one more song couldn’t hurt.
Before I could stop myself, I buried my face in his chest and inhaled, emboldened by proximity and the alcohol in my veins.
Call me crazy, but something about being with him like this felt right. Was I allowed to have thoughts like that after spending less than an hour around him? Probably not. But the fact that this man—Brent freaking Jean—was giving me the time of day was a miracle. I planned to milk it for all it was worth.
Even if there was a tiny voice in the back of my mind warning me to tread lightly.
I told it to shut up and let me enjoy this moment.
When I saw my friends pointing and making inappropriate thrusting motions from across the room, I flipped them off, hoping Brent didn’t see. The last thing I needed was for myfriends to send Brent running, deciding that a girl who came with that kind of posse wasn’t worth the trouble. He only pulled me closer, resting his chin atop my head. When the song ended and a bass-heavy, up-tempo number replaced it, we didn’t break apart. Though I’d been ready to take a breather before Journey played, the way he gripped my hips and sped our swaying to match the beat…well, there was no way in hell I was walking away.
Especially not when he spun me again and the hard length of his cock pressed against my backside.
It was a powerful, heady realization, to know I turned him on in this way. His dating—and I meant “dating” loosely—history included models, B-list actresses, and beautiful influencers, but to knowIwas the one who’d made him hard simply from dancing? That was a high unlike any other.
