unrivaled. He may like to watch, but I think I like to watch him more.
“You want to dance?”
“No,” he quickly answers.
“Please.” I put on an exaggerated sad face.
“No,” he answers, but he finally gives me a grin.
“But—”
“Next slow song maybe. I don’t move like Hunter.” His smile drops when he makes the comparison.
“Mase, I don’t want you to move like Hunter. I want to dance with you .”
“Next slow song,” he reiterates.
“Fine. I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”
I turn and walk away, heading straight for the DJ’s booth. I pull twenty bucks from my bra and pass it to the DJ, whispering my request in his ear.
“Let’s go, cowboy.” I walk back to Mason, grabbing his hand and pulling him out toward the floor.
The first notes of Garth Brooks The Dance ring out over the speakers. Mason freezes for a minute before I glance back to find a heat in his eyes.
“Why this song, Lace?” he asks.
“I may not like country, but this is a damn good song.”
He stops trying to fight and actually drags me to the dance floor.
“I’m assuming you like this one.”
“For some reason, I suddenly feel like dancing.” He pulls me into his arms, closer than two friends but not as close as we will be in a few hours.
I sway in Mason’s arms through the entire song. Despite the fact that I picked this song just because it was the only slow country song I know, it’s strangely fitting. I wouldn’t pass up this moment with Mason for anything. Even though, one day, it will only be a memory.
He doesn’t move like Hunter, but he still captivates me. And it isn’t until the next song starts that I realize Hunter is watching us from the corner of the floor. He’s waiting for us to head back to the bar, and the disappointment I feel leaving Mason’s arms is alarming. I can tell Mason feels it too. But like a trained professional, he slams down his emotionless mask and leads me off the floor. I fully expected him to let me go right back into Hunter’s arms, but when we gets close he pulls me behind him and has a quiet chat with Hunter. They are probably just hashing out sleeping arrangements since Mason wanted us back at his place tonight. I enjoy the minute and hold Mason’s hand.
“Twice in one week? To what do I owe this misfortune?” I hear the familiar bitchy voice behind me. Both guys snap their heads around as well.
“Shit,” I whisper to myself. “Just leave me alone, Abby!” I shout over the music.
“So who’s the unlucky guy tonight? Does he know you probably have every STD known to man?”
“Nope, not happening tonight,” Hunter says, stepping into my sister’s face. “I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up and leave.
“Oh, please. I bet you’re all excited to get between her legs now, but you probably wouldn’t even feel it.”
“I’m not sure what issue you have with Lacey, but I am sure it can be dealt with in private instead of acting like a raving bitch every time you run into her out in public.”
“Okay, wait. She can’t seriously be that good in bed. You’re hot, even if you are overcompensating for a small dick.”
“What the hell is it with Hamilton woman assuming I have a small dick? I would love to show to you the same way I showed Lacey, but I imagine it would turn to ice the minute it touched your wicked witch of a pussy.”
“You asshole.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty accurate,” Hunter says, leaning forward, scooping Abby off her feet, and tossing her over his shoulder. He carts her off toward the front as Mason pulls me out the back door.
“She is such a fucking cunt!” I yell even though it’s unnecessary in the silence outside.
“Who exactly is she?” Mason questions. His eyes scan the parking lot to make sure we are alone before pulling me tight against his side.
“That would be my sister Abby.”
“No shit?”
“Totally true story.” I melt further into his arms.
The bar doors swing open as
“You want to dance?”
“No,” he quickly answers.
“Please.” I put on an exaggerated sad face.
“No,” he answers, but he finally gives me a grin.
“But—”
“Next slow song maybe. I don’t move like Hunter.” His smile drops when he makes the comparison.
“Mase, I don’t want you to move like Hunter. I want to dance with you .”
“Next slow song,” he reiterates.
“Fine. I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”
I turn and walk away, heading straight for the DJ’s booth. I pull twenty bucks from my bra and pass it to the DJ, whispering my request in his ear.
“Let’s go, cowboy.” I walk back to Mason, grabbing his hand and pulling him out toward the floor.
The first notes of Garth Brooks The Dance ring out over the speakers. Mason freezes for a minute before I glance back to find a heat in his eyes.
“Why this song, Lace?” he asks.
“I may not like country, but this is a damn good song.”
He stops trying to fight and actually drags me to the dance floor.
“I’m assuming you like this one.”
“For some reason, I suddenly feel like dancing.” He pulls me into his arms, closer than two friends but not as close as we will be in a few hours.
I sway in Mason’s arms through the entire song. Despite the fact that I picked this song just because it was the only slow country song I know, it’s strangely fitting. I wouldn’t pass up this moment with Mason for anything. Even though, one day, it will only be a memory.
He doesn’t move like Hunter, but he still captivates me. And it isn’t until the next song starts that I realize Hunter is watching us from the corner of the floor. He’s waiting for us to head back to the bar, and the disappointment I feel leaving Mason’s arms is alarming. I can tell Mason feels it too. But like a trained professional, he slams down his emotionless mask and leads me off the floor. I fully expected him to let me go right back into Hunter’s arms, but when we gets close he pulls me behind him and has a quiet chat with Hunter. They are probably just hashing out sleeping arrangements since Mason wanted us back at his place tonight. I enjoy the minute and hold Mason’s hand.
“Twice in one week? To what do I owe this misfortune?” I hear the familiar bitchy voice behind me. Both guys snap their heads around as well.
“Shit,” I whisper to myself. “Just leave me alone, Abby!” I shout over the music.
“So who’s the unlucky guy tonight? Does he know you probably have every STD known to man?”
“Nope, not happening tonight,” Hunter says, stepping into my sister’s face. “I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up and leave.
“Oh, please. I bet you’re all excited to get between her legs now, but you probably wouldn’t even feel it.”
“I’m not sure what issue you have with Lacey, but I am sure it can be dealt with in private instead of acting like a raving bitch every time you run into her out in public.”
“Okay, wait. She can’t seriously be that good in bed. You’re hot, even if you are overcompensating for a small dick.”
“What the hell is it with Hamilton woman assuming I have a small dick? I would love to show to you the same way I showed Lacey, but I imagine it would turn to ice the minute it touched your wicked witch of a pussy.”
“You asshole.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty accurate,” Hunter says, leaning forward, scooping Abby off her feet, and tossing her over his shoulder. He carts her off toward the front as Mason pulls me out the back door.
“She is such a fucking cunt!” I yell even though it’s unnecessary in the silence outside.
“Who exactly is she?” Mason questions. His eyes scan the parking lot to make sure we are alone before pulling me tight against his side.
“That would be my sister Abby.”
“No shit?”
“Totally true story.” I melt further into his arms.
The bar doors swing open as
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