A Fighting Chance (18 page)

The cover is dirt cheap
, and Drew gets in free because she’s a chick. Body heat and catchy Latin melodies waft out when the bouncer waves us through. I really like the casual vibe inside. I’m dressed in a dark blue polo shirt and even darker jeans, and I fit right in.
Las Sirenas
isn’t overly designed or trying to be the coolest place. In fact, it sort of looks like a warehouse. Or maybe I’ve been in way too many abandoned places lately. It’s just disco balls, blinding lasers, and strobe lights bouncing over a writhing energetic crowd. The place is packed way past fire code regulation, and the live band is sweating just as much as the people dancing.

“Cuban music,” Miguel explains as he checks out a group of women
. “It’s really popular in Mexico.”

“Oh, I
needed
this,” Drew says with a sigh as she links arms with both of us. I
need
to think of all the things about her that used to annoy me. It’s the only way to stop what’s happening. Shit, but all those things endeared her to me. And right now, I can’t help how seeing her smile makes me feel. It’s the best cure for a shitty night, and I keep glancing over at her, noting the way the short black dress she’s wearing fits over her shape, and loving it even more because she’s wearing Chucks and not heels. Drew’s also not wearing her engagement ring, and I can’t deny that it makes me happy. Miguel says it’s a work night, and he’s here to promote me, so I should have someone as attractive as Drew on my arm but still look attainable. Her ring would interfere with that, apparently. Maybe after my wins this plan will get me some more attention, but I can’t help thinking he has an ulterior motive. 

“Tequila!” Miguel says, more as a demand than a question, and then he leads us to the nearest bar. He shoves clear a space for the three of us, leaving a few annoyed people out of
the view of the bartenders.

When our three shots
are served, Miguel tells the bartender to leave his tab open. Oh boy. Truthfully, I’m okay with pretending for one night that we’re just three friends boozing it up in Mexico City. And Drew in that dress will make me forget anything. After Miguel gestures for us to raise our shots, I say, “Here’s to being closer to our goal…sort of.” We clink glasses then tip them back, and I nearly cough it up again. I’m now convinced that this place is serving lighter fluid.

“More! More! More!” Drew pounds her palms enthusiastically on top of the bar, and Miguel cheers before he signals the bartender again. I mutter a curse
a few minutes later when he pushes twelve shot glasses between us. The two of them sling back three more and look at me with questioning stares when mine stay untouched.

“I don’t really drink anymore…” I admit.

“
Bueno
. More for them,” Miguel says with a nod to the same group of women he checked out earlier. I don’t know how he does it, but he gathers nearly all the remaining shots and walks toward the ladies. Soon he’s pointing at me and punching the air slightly with his fists.

“Why don’t you drink?
Your princess’s rules?” Drew jokes as she lifts her last shot to her lips.

I shake my head. “No…remember I quit?”

Drew lowers the glass like it’s suddenly full of poison, her expression freezing in embarrassment. “Oh, wow, and you still don’t? Jess, I’m sorry. I feel like I just pushed you off the wagon.”

“Not like that. Once I really got my shit together, it was one of those things that seemed better left apart, you know? But that was back then.
I’m not a stiff.” I give her a reassuring smile and take down her shot to prove my point.

She keeps
wary eyes on me, as if she’s expecting me to keel over. “Okay, if you say so.” Drew touches my wrist and smiles, but I can tell she still feels bad. “You wanna dance?” she asks.

We cut across the floor, dodging swaying hips, turns, kicks and dips, and I realize quickly we’re way out of our league here.
Ignoring the buzz of arousal that rides down my stomach, I put my hands on her waist and her arms come up around my neck. My lips skim her shoulder as I pull her close enough to smell her skin. With the fragrance of the hotel body wash fading, it’s just her bare, natural scent left. I always loved that the most.

The music is going at a fiery pace,
and Drew and I stick to what we swear are merengue steps. Definitely a Dominican dance, but it’s the only thing we know how to do without looking like dumbasses in this crowd. “Have you talked to Buck? I bet he’s excited to have you back home soon,” I say. My own words nick my heart.

“Yeah…yeah…” she says, gulping down, not meeting my eyes for a moment. “We’re actually supposed to move
when I get back. We’re gonna be renting from the Stetsons.” Drew once told me that whenever she got engaged, her parents were going to gift her the house they live in. She loves that place, so the fact that she and Buck are moving somewhere else means the rift with her parents is solidly irreparable.

“Do you and Lydia have a house?” she asks.

“We aren’t there yet…” We might not be anywhere right now. “Tiny apartment not too far from where her parents live, but we’re settling in for a while. We paid four months’ rent when we signed the lease.”

“God, eighteen seems like forever ago, doesn’t it? Our lives have changed so much.
” With a sigh, she drops her gaze to the floor. “Still changing…and it feels like we’re never going to see each other again.” My heavy heart starts to sink, and I fight off the wistful ache in my throat with a soft smile. It does feel that way so I can’t tell her anything different. But I have other words, words I need to say before I chicken out. I cup her chin and lift her head until we make eye contact, but keeping my smile is challenging.

“You’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever had
the honor of knowing, Spark. You’re brave and smart and kind and loving. You’re also beautiful and…I can see why he fell for you. I
know
why he fell for you. I wish every happiness in the world for you, Drew Hallisay. Both of you. You deserve it.” Bringing her hand to my mouth, I kiss it and her eyes are fastened to my lips. Drew starts to speak but a woman with a friendly smile approaches us.

“I’m Camila, and I was watching you from over there. Would you like to learn....” She swivels her body from side to side so that we know she means dancing.
I was wrong earlier; we look like dumbasses. “They are easy steps. Nothing traditional. More
sensual
. More for the young people.” Oh. This may be the one time a sexy Latin dance is exactly what we don’t want, but I let her adjust my hand on Drew, sliding it around to the small of her back. Her whole body seems to pulse from my touch. I react, too, with a deep breath, as a rush of desire floods me. The oppressive heat in this club has nothing on what the beautiful woman in front of me can do. “Your hand is supposed to be higher…but I like here better,” Camila says. I like it better there, too.
She places Drew’s hand on my shoulder in the correct position next.

She
demonstrates the steps she wants us to mimic, shows us a basic spin, and then walks around us as we repeat them. “I like it closer, too…” Camila and I are definitely on the same page with all this. When she pushes Drew and me together, I can’t take my eyes off the slight sway of Drew’s hips. She was never stick-thin, and I liked that about her, but she has gotten shapelier, more like an hourglass. The memory of her body beneath mine at the park shoves itself into my head. I let my mind alter it so that we’re naked, and this time my hands don’t stay on her wrists. In my head, my palms follow my mouth down her breasts and her stomach, and she moans when I flick my tongue just below her bellybutton. My dick throbs, slicing through the fantasy, and warning me that if I keep this up I’ll be in blue balls hell tonight.

And it will be worth it.

Camila clutches my waist from behind and guides my movements. “You are in control of the dance, young man. You will lead.”

“You clearly haven’t met Drew Hallisay,” I mumble so only Drew hears, and she mouths
shut up
before smiling. Damn. It’s her mouth that’s
really
going to be my undoing. She’s wearing a shade of red lipstick that reminds me of the cherries that always spilled out of Lilly Armor’s pie slices so, of course, I want to kiss her again, and in a way I couldn’t at
Alameda Central.

Camila walks around to Drew, making us hold our position
s for an eight-count of music. “But,
bella
,” she says to her, “when you really
move
these hips, all eyes will be on
you
. Remember, though, you are dancing
for him
.” Camila touches my chest. “
Only
for him.”

My gaze
presses into Drew’s, and it’s like when two wires touch and a golden spark blazes between them. I
feel
that flash speed down my spine, and there’s a gleam in Drew’s eyes, the brown seeming to glow with
something
I can’t read.

But it’s something I want.

Camila taps us like she has just cast a spell, and suddenly Drew and I are falling into the fast-paced rhythm with the people around us. With her eyes pinned to mine, Drew pivots her hips to the beat, adding a bit of American style, her body swinging whichever direction I take her. We’re so lost in the music, I don’t even know when Camila walks away exactly, but I mumble a thank you and we keep moving. When the song ends, I spin Drew out then pull her against me, her back to my chest.

We’re quitters, so we do what we’re comfortable with: good ol
e ass to crotch dancing as the next song starts. Her exposed shoulder being so close to my mouth is torture, and I give in with ease. My lips brush her skin, skimming up her neck. When she exhales deeply, it rumbles down my chest. “Did I tell you how beautiful
you look tonight?” I say, running my hand across her stomach and grabbing at the tight fabric there.

I groan
when Drew’s fingers skate up the back of my neck and she tugs my head forward. “Did I tell you it’s crazy that your voice can still make me wet…” She whirls around, keeping her dance steps, slaps a hand over the O-shape of her mouth, and stifles her giggles. There’s not even a hint of embarrassment in her eyes. She’s faking coy.

Y
our voice can still make me wet
. I don’t know if she’s saying it again or if my brain is just replaying it perfectly, but my dick hardens to steel between us. Goose bumps spread over my arms—hot ass club be damned—and I clutch her at her sides to draw her closer to me. Temptation curls through my veins and beats at my temples with burning urgency. All I want to do is find out for myself, knuckles deep, and then get her knees on my shoulders. Before I can speak a word about any of that, my chest clenches, and guilt eclipses my desire. Shit. Shit. Shit. What am I doing?
What is
she
doing? “Feeling the Cuervo, huh?”

Her hands hook together
behind my neck. Drew’s smiling but her eyes narrow in sultry defiance, and it’s this look that strengthens everything I’m fighting against. “Don’t do that. Don’t blame alcohol. Maybe I’m saying it
out loud
because I’m drunk, but I’m still
saying
it because I want you
.
You want me, too. You were staring at me when I was in the shower…”

Guilty as fuckin’ charged.
“How do you know?”

“
‘Cause
I
was staring at
you
,” she says.

“I wanted
to get in,” I admit.

She
grins. “Is
that
the Cuervo?”

“
Hell no.”

Drew shifts her weight between her feet before she leans
forward. She gently tows her lips along my jawline, from my earlobe to my chin. “Then…why didn’t you?”

The
sudden change in my blood flow makes me feverish and impatient. All my breaths are coming out short as I cup her face with both hands. When she tilts her head up, I drag my thumb across her lips, and wanting, like a thirst, rips through me. “You called what happened between us
a thing
, Drew…and then you said it was a mistake.” I can’t believe my answer isn’t,
Because we’re seeing other people,
or the just as valid,
You’re getting married.

Her
stare digs into mine, and her eyes burn with a mix of determination and torment. “You really want me to give a name to how I kissed my ex in the middle of a public park? How I wouldn’t have stopped that day if
you
hadn’t? How every time you touch me…” She pulls herself closer to me and puts her mouth against my ear. Warmth skitters across my skin when she closes her teeth around my earlobe. “How every time you touch me I wonder if it’ll be the time when you
ask…
so I can say yes.”

M
y resistance dissolves to fumes. I hold her as close as we can get with our clothes on, and I know she can feel how hard I am.
What the hell are we doing?
The question pings in a tiny corner of my mind, but the words filling the rest of my head are the ones that actually come out. “Will you say yes now?”