have done that for me. The closest it ever came to that was the time Blake Normand asked for my phone number and Wesley threatened to have his BMW towed. Not much fire behind that.
I sit with an open mouth, dragging my finger across my bottom lip, staring at the back of Cole's head as he talks to Zeke, replaying his actions over and over again in my mind. Each time I feel a charge run through my body, like it’s trying to shake my clothes off.
“You wanna dance?” I hear Zeke's voice call out and quickly realize how stupid I must look.
“ Huh?” I mumble. Cole turns around and his eyes finally find mine. It is completely different from the way he was looking at me before the altercation. He almost looks like he is guilty of something.
“ Do you want to dance while your sister gets a handle on her pet?” Zeke asks again, purposely slowing his inflection like I don’t speak English.
Cole's eyes hover on my lips, anticipating my answer. He bites down on his bottom lip as though he may ask me not to go and instead stay and continue our conversation. “Go on. Dance with him. He's wounded,” he forces out with a fake smile. I don't know why I expected him to say anything else. I should have listened when he said he’s no good. He obviously has some anger management issues, and if he is going to run hot and cold all the time, maybe I should just cut my losses and move on before things get really complicated.
“Sure.” I make my way onto the dance floor with Zeke. I turn back, giving Cole one more chance to beg me to stay put, but he already turned back around and is involved in a deep conversation with the bartender and her boobs.
“ So, what's the deal with Mike Tyson?” Zeke asks as he slips his arms around my waist and we settle in for a platonic slow dance to a country ballad. “Is he really her boyfriend?”
“ I'm not sure what their deal is. I haven't been around long enough to sort that one out yet.” I can’t pull my eyes from Cole, who is now laughing at whatever Miss Racktastic is saying.
“ Your sister really is almost eighteen, right?” He continues pumping me for information. “She said she was, but I just want to make sure.”
“ She told you she's almost eighteen?” I lean back and look at him with a serious expression. “She doesn't even have her license yet,” I tell him. The look on his stunned face makes the tormenting that much more fun. “I'm kidding! Yes. She will be eighteen next month.”
“ Oh, thank God!” he exclaims and we both start laughing. “I mean, I'm only twenty, but that's still too old for a fifteen-year-old.”
“ You've got nothing to worry about. She's fair game.” Our fun is cut short when I see Cole and his new friend taking a shot together at the bar. The interaction is painful to watch.
“ You'd rather be dancing with him, huh?” Zeke observes.
“ We're just friends,” I reiterate to myself.
“ Yep,” Zeke confirms with a disbelieving nod. “That's what he keeps saying, too.”
Before I can ask what he is insinuating, Mallory is at our side. “Mind if I cut in?”
“Nope.” I drop my arms from Zeke's neck and take a step back.
“ You send your little bodyguard home?” Zeke asks.
“ Sure did,” she says, slipping into my place. “He's not going to be bothering us anymore tonight.”
“ Thanks for the dance.” I'm not even sure he hears me as I turn to walk away from them. He is letting Mallory fawn over his bruised jaw, and he is pulling her body a lot closer to his than he did mine.
“ Hey,” Zeke calls out before I am off the dance floor. “Can you give Cole a ride? I'm planning on taking your sister home.” His forwardness is comical, but Mallory doesn’t seem to mind as she wraps herself up tighter in him.
“ Yeah, sis! Why don't you give your friend a ride home?” Mal continues to try and push me out of my comfort zone of playing
I sit with an open mouth, dragging my finger across my bottom lip, staring at the back of Cole's head as he talks to Zeke, replaying his actions over and over again in my mind. Each time I feel a charge run through my body, like it’s trying to shake my clothes off.
“You wanna dance?” I hear Zeke's voice call out and quickly realize how stupid I must look.
“ Huh?” I mumble. Cole turns around and his eyes finally find mine. It is completely different from the way he was looking at me before the altercation. He almost looks like he is guilty of something.
“ Do you want to dance while your sister gets a handle on her pet?” Zeke asks again, purposely slowing his inflection like I don’t speak English.
Cole's eyes hover on my lips, anticipating my answer. He bites down on his bottom lip as though he may ask me not to go and instead stay and continue our conversation. “Go on. Dance with him. He's wounded,” he forces out with a fake smile. I don't know why I expected him to say anything else. I should have listened when he said he’s no good. He obviously has some anger management issues, and if he is going to run hot and cold all the time, maybe I should just cut my losses and move on before things get really complicated.
“Sure.” I make my way onto the dance floor with Zeke. I turn back, giving Cole one more chance to beg me to stay put, but he already turned back around and is involved in a deep conversation with the bartender and her boobs.
“ So, what's the deal with Mike Tyson?” Zeke asks as he slips his arms around my waist and we settle in for a platonic slow dance to a country ballad. “Is he really her boyfriend?”
“ I'm not sure what their deal is. I haven't been around long enough to sort that one out yet.” I can’t pull my eyes from Cole, who is now laughing at whatever Miss Racktastic is saying.
“ Your sister really is almost eighteen, right?” He continues pumping me for information. “She said she was, but I just want to make sure.”
“ She told you she's almost eighteen?” I lean back and look at him with a serious expression. “She doesn't even have her license yet,” I tell him. The look on his stunned face makes the tormenting that much more fun. “I'm kidding! Yes. She will be eighteen next month.”
“ Oh, thank God!” he exclaims and we both start laughing. “I mean, I'm only twenty, but that's still too old for a fifteen-year-old.”
“ You've got nothing to worry about. She's fair game.” Our fun is cut short when I see Cole and his new friend taking a shot together at the bar. The interaction is painful to watch.
“ You'd rather be dancing with him, huh?” Zeke observes.
“ We're just friends,” I reiterate to myself.
“ Yep,” Zeke confirms with a disbelieving nod. “That's what he keeps saying, too.”
Before I can ask what he is insinuating, Mallory is at our side. “Mind if I cut in?”
“Nope.” I drop my arms from Zeke's neck and take a step back.
“ You send your little bodyguard home?” Zeke asks.
“ Sure did,” she says, slipping into my place. “He's not going to be bothering us anymore tonight.”
“ Thanks for the dance.” I'm not even sure he hears me as I turn to walk away from them. He is letting Mallory fawn over his bruised jaw, and he is pulling her body a lot closer to his than he did mine.
“ Hey,” Zeke calls out before I am off the dance floor. “Can you give Cole a ride? I'm planning on taking your sister home.” His forwardness is comical, but Mallory doesn’t seem to mind as she wraps herself up tighter in him.
“ Yeah, sis! Why don't you give your friend a ride home?” Mal continues to try and push me out of my comfort zone of playing
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