Page 105 of Meet Your Match
“Come on, Maven. Match our energy,” he goaded her.
She snorted and waved him off. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
“The night is young,weare young, and Tampa is waiting to celebrate us,” Jaxson said, grabbing Maven by the hands and pulling her up reluctantly from her chair. “You’re part of this team now. Time to show it.”
“And exactly how do you propose I do that?”
Will smirked as he grabbed her shoulders from behind and gave them a little squeeze. “Show us your celly dance.”
“Mywhat?”
The guys who were still on the plane cheered, clapping and whistling before Carter started a chant.
Cel-ly dance, cel-ly dance.
Our pilot played right into our hands, cranking the music on the stereo system. It was a club mix of “Ferrari,” and our cheers grew louder as Maven’s mouth popped open in an amused smile.
“You brutes are dreaming,” she said on a laugh. Her eyes found mine then, and I made a fake pouty face, clucking my tongue.
“Aw, I think she’s embarrassed, guys,” I said, crossing the plane until I was behind her. I rubbed her shoulders, brushing my thumb along the slope of her neck and loving that I made chills break out when I did. “It’s okay, Maven. We know you can’t dance for shit.”
The guys laughed and made a deepooohhhhsound, watching as Maven narrowed her eyes and looked over her shoulder at me.
“Is that what you think?”
I shrugged, egging her on. “Prove me wrong.”
The team started chanting her name, and she arched a brow, breaking out of my hold with a determined nod.
Using the hand Carter had outstretched to help her, she climbed up onto one of the large leather seats, and then she started pumping her fists to make the team roar even louder.
When she had their attention, she cast me one lastwatch thislook, and she broke it down.
She was goofy at first, waving her hands in the air and bobbing her head. Then, her shoulders shimmied, and she pointed at one of our wingers before doing his signature celebration dance — brushing off her shoulders with her brows pinched together before she pretended to shoot a basket. She held her hands up in the little flick and we all went wild.
One by one, she pointed at each teammate and mimicked them, whether by doing their dance or, like in Daddy P’s case, crossing her arms and scowling hard while imitating his crouched goalie position.
My stomach was in stitches, and just when I thought she couldn’t shock us all any more than she had, she pointed right at me with a wink.
Then, she bent in half, her hands finding the leather of the seat. She kicked one foot up behind her to balance on the head rest, and then the other, until she was inverted and stacking her hips over her shoulders.
The plane quieted a bit with confused murmurs, the music growing in a crescendo toward the beat drop. When it did, Maven knocked us all on our asses.
Because she started shakinghers.
She twerked upside down, her ass bouncing side to side, up and down, and then in a circle as she threw it to thebeat. The team went absolutely ape shit, but when Carter wound up like he was going to smack her ass, I caught his wrist before he could, pinning him with a glare.
“Do you want to die tonight?” I asked him.
He just laughed, holding his hands up in surrender while he and Jaxson exchanged looks.
Trying to play it off before they could read too much into it, I picked Maven up and hauled her over my shoulder, dancing us down the aisle and off the plane with her little fists beating on my back, and the team following behind us with hoots and hollers.
I didn’t drop her until we were on the tarmac, and she came up breathless, laughing and smacking my chest.
“You interrupted my celly!”
“That’s because it was about to get me thrown off my team and possibly in jail, too.”
