P.I.T.A. (L.A. Liaisons #3)(31)

And, shocker of all shocks, he'd kept his word. We'd gone to Vik & Johnny's, which sat atop a hillside overlooking Hollywood. We'd talked about everything under the sun for hours: his job, how I'd met the girls, his favorite place he'd traveled (Iceland), and mine (Mykonos). The snarky comments were plentiful, because that was who we were, but this easygoing side of Dawson was one I hadn't spent one-on-one time with in far too long. I'd forgotten how much I'd actually liked the guy. He was funny, sharing the same twisted sense of humor I did; he pulled out chairs, stood when I'd needed to use the ladies' room; he listened and tipped well. And, as infuriating as it could be sometimes, he was one of those guys that things came naturally to. That drew people in without even having to try. Waiters and staff loved him, and friends we ran into were genuinely happy to see him. Where I'd convinced myself the past few years that he was this cocky, arrogant bastard, in reality that wasn't true at all. Not to say he didn't play up that side of himself whenever I was around, but now I saw it for what it really was. An act. A bit of role-playing that depended on who he was entertaining at the time. That little revelation had me looking at him in a different light. And it was after, as we were walking into Verve because we weren't quite ready for the night to end, that he reached for my hand. That moment when his fingers linked with mine stole my breath, because the last thing I'd expected to feel at Dawson's touch was hopeful. Hopeful for what? The promise of something more? That whatever it was happening between us could translate into a relationship?



       
         
       
        

God, just the word relationship usually sent me into a cold shiver, but as Dawson led me inside the dark nightclub, I didn't feel the tremor up my spine that normally accompanied the word. But, strangely enough, it was the lack of a freak-out that had me freaking out. Which made no sense.

As if he could sense the sudden tension, Dawson changed course, veering to the right toward the dance floor instead of the bar we'd been heading to, and he didn't let go of my hand. Instead, he kept me close to his side as we made our way down the steps to the crowded floor, where a pulsing beat had the couples we passed grinding together with moves that were better suited to the bedroom.

But it was my kind of place, exhibitionist that I was, and that was exactly why Dawson had brought me here first. To loosen me the hell up.

"Come on," he said, drawing me tight against him, his hands spread along my lower back. "Dance with me."

As we began to sway, one of his legs pushed between mine, and I rocked my hips side to side while he matched me move for move. Closing my eyes, I breathed in his scent and let the music sweep me away, clearing my mind until there was nothing but me, the rhythm I kept time with, and Dawson pressed up against me. Soon, I was in my element, turning my back toward Dawson and sliding down the length of his body as others in the crowd turned to watch. I gave them a teasing smile, biting down on my lip, and I circled my hips as I heard whoops ring out.

This was me. This was where I felt alive.

Dawson's lips came up by my ear, and he said, "You look so fucking sexy," before nipping at my lobe and easing back, letting me do my thing.

We continued that way for what felt like hours, never stopping, never losing body contact, the push and pull and thrill of dancing the night away content in someone's arms. But Dawson wasn't just anyone. As the music changed into a slower beat, his hand came up to push back the hair that stuck to my neck.

"You're beautiful," he said, a small smile tipping his lips up, and then he touched his forehead to mine. "Especially when it's my cock you're grinding on."

I laughed, shaking my head, and we kept moving side to side. "You're crazy."

"I am."

The change in his tone had me pulling back to look at him, and the sincerity that shone in his eyes scared me. He was looking at me like I'd hung the moon. Like I was some amazing being who'd cut out stars and sprinkled them across a night sky. Our movements slowed, but my heart pounded harder than ever. As he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side and leaned down to kiss me, I broke out into a cold sweat.

Unwrapping his arms from around me, I said, "Dawson, I'll … be right back." Then I stumbled my way to the restroom, my head swimming like I would pass out at any moment. Thankfully, there wasn't a line, and I quickly turned on the faucet and splashed some cold water on my neck and my wrists. 

Okay, why was I having a freak-out all of a sudden? This was what I wanted, wasn't it? What I'd always wanted, but time and my stubborn brain had told me I couldn't have. It was like I couldn't reconcile the me now with someone who could be in a relationship. How would that even work? Was that what Dawson wanted?

As I steadied my breathing, I looked at the woman I saw staring back at me in the mirror. Sure, she was flushed and her hair was tousled almost like it was windblown, but she was still the same person she'd been before she'd gotten hitched. Maybe she could work her shit out and try to be vulnerable. Open herself up by putting it all out there in a way she'd only ever tried and failed to do once. It was just Dawson, for fuck's sake. The least judgmental person on the planet, and what was the worst he could do? Laugh? Tease me to no end forever and ever?

Or … maybe he'd feel the same?

With my mind made up, I toweled off my neck and arms, and headed back for the man I'd abruptly left behind. As I rounded the corner that led back to the dance floor, my eyes searched the crowd for him, and when I found him, he wasn't alone. A voluptuous brunette hung on his every word, throwing her head back as she laughed at whatever he was saying. But as she turned to the side to whisper in his ear, I got a better look at her, and that was when I realized it wasn't just any woman. It was Destiny Landis.

It hit me then, the memories of that stupid party back in college, the one where I'd made the decision that had led me to now.





TONIGHT'S THE NIGHT, I thought, as I checked my reflection in the mirror one last time. Dawson and I had coordinated our costumes for tonight's Halloween party. We'd dressed as a Harlequin cover-me as a Highlander's Mistress, and he was dressed, or undressed, I should say, as Fabio, which made me laugh every time I saw him. I'd left him downstairs to get us a couple of drinks while I went to psych myself up.

Tonight everything would change. I could feel it in my bones, and with the way Dawson and I had been dancing around each other for the past few weeks, I knew that something was bound to give soon. And why not tonight, with my breasts all plumped up to mimic a heaving bosom, and, I suspected, not much under his kilt.

Sure, we'd been playing the field, but neither of us had ever settled with anyone serious. And that told me a lot of what I needed to know about how to move things forward.

As I came down the stairs, I searched out the spot I'd left him, and when it looked like he wasn't back yet with the drinks, I went there to meet him. Only he wasn't there either.

"Hey, Mike, have you seen Dawson?" I asked one of his friends, who, along with half the crowd there tonight, had gone with a toga costume.

"Yeah, I think he went that way," he said, pointing down the hall, and I frowned. Why would he go down there? Nothing but bedrooms and-

Ohhhh. Well, hot damn.

Shimmying down my top a bit, I made my way down the hall, peeked in door number one, and immediately regretted it. I'd never look at Sunny the same way, that was for sure. Nobody was behind door number two, which only left …

All right, here goes nothin'. The door was already ajar, and it was then that I heard Dawson's low chuckle, followed by a female's seductive purr.

I froze. Oh my God. Was he in there with another girl? Obviously he was, from the sounds I'd just heard, but who? And why? And what were they-

My hand went up to my mouth as bile rose in my throat. Better judgment told me not to open that door, that I didn't want to see what was going on inside, but it was too late now. I had to.



       
         
       
        

As I pushed the door open slightly, the occupants inside weren't fazed in the least that someone had walked in on them. They didn't even seem to notice. Dawson was lying back on a couch with a brunette straddling his waist, and she whispered something in his ear that made him laugh, and as she tossed her hair over her shoulders, I saw her face.

It was my sorority sister, Destiny. One of my friends, and someone who knew how close Dawson and I were. And now her lips were on his neck, and her hand traveled over his bare chest before sliding down between his thighs. Her fingers massaged him through the kilt, and his head fell back as he groaned. It was only when Destiny dropped to her knees that I forced myself to look away.

Oh God … please tell me I imagined that. That she wasn't really in that room, that he wasn't enjoying what her hands-and now probably her mouth-were doing. Fuck, I'd been so stupid. Stupid for not listening when he'd told me to never give anyone the power over me like I'd done with my ex. To keep my options open, that we made our own rules, and the world and its occupants were ours to explore. We'd always had clear boundaries of friendship, and I'd gone and done something like fall for my best friend. I'd turned into a damn cliché. I was a fucking joke.