American Bad Boy(2)

He doesn’t need to know that by weeks I mean months. As in, I’ve been planning what to wear to the prom since school started this year. I smooth my hands down over my royal purple gown. After looking at every neon colored dress ever invented, I turned down the flash for understated elegance. I truly feel like a princess with the intricately beaded halter and the floor length chiffon skirt. All that’s missing is my glass slippers.

That and my prince charming.

Mack Forrester is many things. Usually words like “hot” and “rebel” are used to describe him. But he isn’t a prince, and the only thing he’s good at charming is my clothes off.

And she will be loved …

“The song is almost over. Just dance with me for a minute. Just till the end of the song.” I try again. Mack just smiles at me and tilts his head to the side.

“You do look gorgeous,” his voice rumbles. “But, I didn’t come here to dance. I brought you because I knew it was important to you.” He pushes himself off the wall and stands up straight, lifting my hand up over my head and twirls me in a circle. I squint my eyes and the room swirls around me in a kaleidoscope of color. My dress billows out, exposing my legs to the air, and then cocoons back around me. I feel like the tiny ballerina I used to watch spin around in my mother’s music box.

No one would dance with her either.

Mack yanks me tight against his chest and fixes me to the floor with his blue eyes. “Besides, there’s a lot more to do on prom night than just this,” he nods his head toward the swaying couples behind me. “I do plan to dance with you,” he smirks his cocky little half smile and my heart flutters. I’m sure he can feel it thudding in my chest. “Don’t worry, I’ll spin you all around too, but for my dance that pretty little dress of yours has got to go.”

I don’t mean to press my breasts into him. It’s not like I want to encourage him. I just can’t help it. Mack knows how to mesmerize me with only a look. The song changes to another slow one and I manage to snap out of my lust trance.

“Fine, if you’re not going to dance with me then I’ll just find someone else who will.” I look into his eyes and fight my instinct to kiss his hovering mouth.

“Who? Why are we wasting time here? Let’s just get out of here, Lauren.” His voice is thick with desire. I can almost feel myself being hypnotized by it. But I refuse to give in that easy.

Somehow I find the strength to step away from his warm body and scan the room. My eyes stop on Joel Brickman. Not ideal by a long stretch, but I know my former chemistry partner won’t turn down a dance. I smirk at Mack and walk away from him, making sure I add a little Shakira to my hips as I make my way across the floor. I know Mack’s watching my every move, so I might as well put on a good show.

I stride up to Joel and grab his arm. “Come on, let’s dance.”

It isn’t a question. But, it doesn’t seem to matter. He’s at my heels like the love-struck puppy dog he is.

We’re quickly absorbed on the ballroom floor by the other couples twisting around in slow circles. I glance at Joel and am rewarded with the familiar smile I’ve seen for the past eight months in every science class. His look says I’ve just made this guy’s night. Hell, I probably just made his year. I check over his shoulder to see if Mack is watching and feel satisfied when my boyfriend’s smug smile begins to twist into something else. Jealousy.

Some people want diamond rings

Some just want everything

But everything means nothing

If I ain't got you, yeah

Joel glides me around the floor and my view of Mack is obstructed by other slow-dancing couples. I finally stop twisting my head around like an owl and just focus on the guy I’m dancing with. His large brown eyes are searching my face. Desperate to find significance in our meaningless dance. I’ve sat next to him all year, yet I’ve never really looked at him before. He’s actually not a bad looking guy. His sandy hair sweeps across his forehead and frames his big eyes. The eyes that won’t stop staring at me.

Staring into me.

I need to make him stop.

“I, uh, wanted to say thanks for being my lab partner all year. It was great working with you.” I interrupt his thoughts in an attempt to drag him back into reality. I can’t look into those eyes any longer. Instead I focus on my hand against his shoulder. My almond skin against his snow white jacket is striking.

“I can honestly say that it was my pleasure, Lauren. Did you get into nursing?” He looks so hopeful, like my future genuinely matters to him.

“I did,” I beam. I can’t help it, I’m pretty proud of myself. “I got a full scholarship at the University of Colorado, can you believe it?”