Mindful of Aston, I didn’t spend a long time dancing. Two songs later, I turned to him, hair in my face, laughter pouring out of my mouth. He was still standing in the same spot, his eyes on mine, like he’d never looked away once. I liked that a lot. His arms were still crossed over his bare chest, looking thick as ever all pressed up against him. His hair was in a sexy, wet mess. He was taller and more solid than everyone around him, catching the eyes of plenty of girls passing by. But he wasn’t looking at them. He was looking at me, and that was all that mattered.
“Happy now?” he asked me when I stopped in front of him.
“I’d have been happier if you danced,” I answered.
“Maybe some other time,” he replied dryly.
I was doubtful of that ever happening. “I’m never going to have any decent memories to look back on when you leave, am I? You’re just a boring ornament.”
“A boring ornament? Is that really how you’re going to remember me?”
“Absolutely,” I teased. “I should throw a pink bow on your head so you don’t scare people away with your brooding against the wall.”
He looked down at me for a moment, his face stricken with intense thoughtfulness. His eyes roamed my features, and then he gritted his teeth and said, “Fine.”
“Fine what?”
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
Before I could say another word, he took me by the hand and led me back into the crowd. I was so surprised, I could hardly catch up to what was happening until he pressed my body against his and moved.
Oh. My. God.
Aston was dancing.
I laughed and wrapped my arms around his neck like I had wanted to. I thought he’d be awkward, but Aston surprised me more than ever that night. His hips moved, controlling the rhythm of my own body as he took the lead. I gasped in surprise, staring at him with a deer in the headlights look.
“When did you learn to dance like that?” I asked him, though my voice was swallowed up by the party house mix.
He smirked devilishly. “I’m not a priest, El.”
He continued his fluid movements, and I went along with it, still floored by this other layer of him. His hands roamed down my back, stopping just above my tailbone before moving back up again. They were controlled and cautious touches, never too erotic, but still sexy enough to get my blood pumping harder. His head dipped and his face pressed against the side of mine. His hot breaths blew against my ear and I could feel it all the way down my body, making my toes curl.
My hands tightened against his neck in a sort of needy way. A hand tangled into his hair, gripping it tightly. I pulled away from him enough that I could look into his eyes. He looked straight at me, his eyes dark and smouldering, his lips parted enough I could see the way his tongue slid against the inside of his bottom lip.
Don’t you feel what we have together?
“Can I cut in?” I heard a voice shout.
Aston pulled away, and we looked at a pretty blonde, staring directly up at him with a sexy smile on her face. She was confident, not even acknowledging me like it was a given I would be tossed to the side. I fucking hated that. Hated girls that trivialized relationships, and, okay, we weren’t in a relationship, but I’d been a breath away from kissing him, and she just intruded like she had every fucking right to.
I won’t even deny the jealousy that cut me deep. In a split second, I imagined stepping back and giving him to her. I imagined his hands along her thin hips, his fingers moving below her tailbone without caution, and his face pressed against the side of her orange foundation-mask of a face. Was this girly girl enough for him?
I wanted to escape and drown in alcohol. I’d done it once when I found Dad’s whiskey in the basement and had a few gulps with Cindy. But then Aston found out and it was all doomsday gloom for days. I’d fought him about it, told him I was only young once and wanted to try new things. In the end he only allowed beer, and only when he supervised.
I started to look around in search of some messy people playing beer pong or some shit when I heard Aston’s response. “No,” he said firmly, causing me to switch my gaze back to his in disbelief. Had he really said no to orange-face girly girl? Then he turned to me and pressed me back to him, dismissing the girl entirely.
It felt fucking amazing.
I smiled brilliantly the second he dipped his face between my shoulder and neck, moving to the music without skipping a beat. We were flesh against flesh, the wet drops on his bare torso brushed against the wet drops on mine. We were the only two souls drenched in that room, and we stood out like two white dots in a sea of black.
I was in heaven. This was the best night of my life, hands down.