Reed sits at a table in a dark corner, wearing a scowl as he surveys the dance floor, which has begun to fill up with people. His discomfort isn’t surprising, since he and Scarlett seem to be cut from the same antisocial cloth.
She stops in front of the table and shouts to be heard. “Look who I found in the restroom.”
His scowl deepens. “I didn’t know you were now trolling public restrooms for friends.”
To my surprise, she belly-laughs. “Reed, you’re a really funny guy when you let yourself have a little bit of fun.”
I wonder if I’ve walked into the middle of a disagreement between them. If so, I have no intention of being used as a weapon. Or a shield. “I need to get back to my friends.”
Reed’s eyebrows rise conveying his distaste. “You mean your date?”
I stare at him for a moment. Is that why he’s here? Because he heard Tucker say we were coming here tonight? I’m about to become outraged when I remember my own recent stalking experience only moments ago. “Yeah, my date.” I cast a glance to our table. Tucker and Dylan are clueless about what’s going on in this corner, but I have Scarlett’s full attention.
I head back to our table, and I can feel Reed’s eyes on me as I leave. Instead of irritating me, I revel in it.
I really am a masochist.
Dylan’s arm and fingers return to their previous positions when I take my seat. Scarlett’s eyes question if I’m okay or if I’m ready to call it quits. It’s barely after ten o’clock, and I now have Reed’s attention. He’ll know my date isn’t going well if I leave now.
Dylan ordered another cosmo while I was gone and I down it before I’ve realized what I’ve done. But holding a glass keeps me busy. Anything to make me look like I’m having fun. I soon find myself on my third drink in only an hour, more than I usually consume, but I need the alcohol to steady my nerves. Dylan might have my nerves on edge, but Reed has the rest of me on alert.
The band switches to a ballad. Dylan leans his mouth in to my ear, his lips brushing my earlobe.
“Do you want to dance?”
Not really, but I can’t sit here much longer or I’ll drink myself senseless. I’m now trying to pace myself as it is. “Sure.”
My response is less than enthusiastic, but Dylan doesn’t seem to notice as he pulls me to the dance floor, then settles my chest against his. His arms encircle my waist, his hands resting on the rise of my ass.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
Dylan presses his body flush to mine and leans into my ear. “I’ve wanted you all night.”
I can honestly say I don’t feel the same. If someone had told me a week ago this would be my response, I would have called them crazy. The only thing I feel at the moment is disgust. Disgust with Dylan but also with myself. I let Dylan’s family money and status fool me. I try not to let my body stiffen as Dylan’s hand begins to slide up the curve of my waist, inching higher. I reach for his hand and pull it down. I just need to make it through this dance and then I’m going home. Who the hell cares what Reed Pendergraft thinks?
But Dylan doesn’t like my redirection and pins my hand between his chest and mine. When I try to pull back, his grip around my back tightens and he looks down at me with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Where’re you goin’, Caroline? I thought you wanted to be with me. Isn’t that why you had Tucker set us up?”
I’m livid with Tucker, but then I realize Tucker would never tell Dylan what he’d done. He might tease me, but he respects me too much to betray my trust. Not to mention that he’d never risk Scarlett’s wrath.
Dylan must have read my mind. “Fuck no, Tucker didn’t tell me. I overheard you, baby. But not to worry. You’ve got me now. I’m all yours.” He grinds his pelvis into mine to show me how much of him I get.
His hold on me tightens enough that I’ll have to make a scene to get away from him. It’s not ideal, but I’ll do it before I let this shithead get away with molesting me any more than he already has.
I’m about to forcefully insist he release me when someone interrupts.
“I’d like to have this dance.” Reed stands to my right and it’s not a question. It’s an order.
Dylan stops swaying. “Can’t you see we’re busy?”
Reed stares at Dylan, and I’m surprised Dylan hasn’t curled up into the fetal position under his scrutiny. “I spoke to Caroline, not you.” His gaze turns to me. His eyes are deadly cold, but I know his anger isn’t directed at me. Well, most of it. “Caroline, would you like to dance?”
I nod, shocked into silence.
Reed pushes Dylan’s hand off my waist and takes me into his arms. Dylan stares, probably wondering what in the hell happened.
I’m wondering the same thing.
The raw power rolling off Reed’s body makes my knees weak and I stumble, but Reed’s arm tightens around my waist until I’m steady on my feet.
Reed lowers his face next to mine. “Did he hurt you?”
I shake my head. “No, of course not.”
“Are you saying he didn’t have you trapped against him when I showed up?”
“Well, yes,” I say in annoyance. “But the only thing hurt is my pride. I’m embarrassed, although I’m not sure why. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
He leans his head back to look at my face and relief mixes with something that looks like respect. “You’re right. I’ve never understood a misogynistic society that shames the woman for a man’s boorish behavior.”