Edge of Chaos (Love on the Edge #1) (15 page)

The music rose to an exceptionally loud level as we zigzagged our way through the throngs of grinding couples and into the middle of the floor. The song transitioned to Awolnation’s “Sail” as he found a clear spot and stopped.

Dash nodded to the beat and moved his hips back and forth, pulling me closer with a wicked smile on his lips. I moved effortlessly toward him and didn’t even flinch when he wrapped a strong arm around my waist. He swayed us to the rhythm of the music, the sweet drawn-out beat thumping from the speakers and into the floor, vibrating my bones.

He spun me out with a simple flick of his wrist, and I arched my head in a slow circle before he drew me back in quickly, the momentum causing me to crash against his firm chest. He didn’t miss a beat, steadying me with his hands on the small of my back. Heat flushed under his touch, a spark of tingles shooting across my skin.

The music and my buzz created an awesome sense of floating detachment. I hadn’t felt this great in months. Years maybe.

He twirled me again, and this time I had more grace when he tugged me back. I moved in sync with him, and his strong lead made me feel like a puppet helpless to his direction. A combination of sheer blissfulness and a twinge of guilt hit me.

Justin hated to dance. I’d nearly gotten him into a club once, but he’d had a classic blowup and bailed before we’d even made it to the parking lot. I sighed, swaying where Dash directed me, and forced myself back to the present.

And then I realized how close we were. Heat from his skin radiated beneath my thin tee, my breasts grazing his hard chest, and I was once again overcome with wonder of what Dash would do to me in bed. My core hummed with an aching need and I sucked in a sharp breath. Had I crossed a line dancing with him like this?

As Dash grinned down at me, moving me so easily to the steady thump of the music, I shook my head. No, this was fine. More than fine—it was completely natural for me to be curious after only being with one person my entire life—and everyone had fantasies. I was allowed to enjoy a night out with my best friend, especially since my boyfriend hated doing pretty much anything that involved separating from his Xbox and hated it even more when I did anything beyond study.

“What are you shaking your head at?” Dash pressed his cheek against mine and spoke into my ear so I could hear him over the loud music. His breath on my skin made my heart stutter involuntarily and I wanted to shower in the sensations he awoke in my body for a little longer, despite knowing actively enjoying it took it one step closer to not being a harmless fantasy.

“Do you have to be so great at everything?”

He pulled back for a second, arching an eyebrow at me before returning his lips near my ear. “Of course. It’s what I
do.”

I laughed again and thought about how half the time I was with Dash we spent it laughing. I would have killer abs if we kept it up. “You know what would make this even better?”

“Justin being here instead of me?” he quickly replied.

My stomach sank with my instant internal denial. Not that he’d ever be up for anything like this, but if he were here, he’d be sulking at the bar and lecturing me on the immaturity of dancing. “Sorry Lindsay didn’t come,” I said, my train of thought broken. He’d texted her on the way in, but she’d never responded.

“Not what I meant.” He gently rocked me backward before bringing me up against his chest again. “What would make it better?”

The notion seemed silly now. “Never mind.”

“Tell me, woman!”

“If I knew your name!” I relented.

“Of course, anything for a friend,” he said in a mocking tone. He tugged me closer, inching his leg between my thighs until our bodies were flush. My pulse quickened, and I swallowed hard. His lips grazed my ear. “It’s”—he held me in agonizing anticipation—“Lexington, Dash Lexington.” He burst out laughing.

“Ha, ha.” I smacked his chest.

One song faded into another, and we danced until my legs were on fire. Dash never faltered, and damn it if he didn’t show me a good time. When he finally carted me off the dance floor, sweat popped from both our foreheads.

We found Paul chatting up the bombshell where we left him. She actually had a genuine smile that lit up her eyes as he said something funny. I found myself hoping he’d score her number as I took a seat next to him, Dash standing close behind me due to the lack of available space.

Once they took a breath from their in-depth conversation about why the best tequila chaser was the lime, I ordered Dash and me two more beers. They were cold and so refreshing after the vigorous dance session.

“Not a bad way to mend the wounds of a bust.” I held the tip of my bottle toward him.

“Can’t remember ever having more fun after such a letdown,” Dash said and clinked his bottle against mine.

JUSTIN SAT ACROSS
from me at our regular high-top table at Bailey’s. I couldn’t freaking believe it. He’d showed up as a way of an apology for being a complete asshole last weekend.

I wrung my hands out underneath the table, my knee bouncing uncontrollably. I wanted Justin to like Dash and enjoy being out of the house, but I was equally hoping Dash or Lindsay wouldn’t slip up and say something about all the non-educational outings we had. I’d grilled Dash on the reasons why that would be a bad idea even though he already understood and I could only hope Lindsay would respect it as well. Of course, I wanted everything out in the open, but on my terms. After tonight, I prayed I could tell Justin how close I’d grown to Dash and the guys without any problems. Once he saw how awesome Dash was he couldn’t scold me for the friendship.

John and Paul played shuffleboard as Dash told me about his latest idea for the design of the probes they were working on. Lindsay sipped her cranberry and vodka, sitting next to him with a dazed look.

“You’re really into all this weather shit, too, huh?” Justin interrupted Dash.

Dash cut his eyes to Justin. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Justin finished off his third IPA. “Don’t you think it is a little cliché?”

“What?” Dash asked.

I swallowed hard. Arrogance colored Justin’s tone.

“Oh, come on! We live in Oklahoma and you’re a storm chaser? Technically isn’t every other person in this place one? At least being a meteorologist is a
real
job. Chasing isn’t very original,” he said and took another drink.

I opened my mouth to defend our shared passion, but Dash was quicker.

“There’s a little more to it than standing on your back porch and snapping a photo with your iPhone.”

Justin shrugged. “Whatever. You ride around in a car and point a camera out the window. Hardly rocket science.”

I placed my hand on top of Justin’s wrist. “There is actually a ton of science involved.” He’d understand that if he ever paid attention to any of the weather maps I brought home or the station models I studied.

Lindsay giggled and nearly spit her drink all over the table. How many had she had?

“Dashy, he’s right; you do point a camera out the window. It’s not like you’re in a lab conducting experiments or anything. Though the way you and Blake talk about it, you’d think you were.” She patted Dash’s shoulder like he was a silly puppy.

I ground my teeth together and stopped myself from smacking my forehead. Dash and the guys worked in the weather lab on campus almost every day, and I’d been joining them more frequently, helping them interpret the tons of data they gathered. They also designed probes, tested instruments, plotted courses, and ran through preparation scenarios. Hell, all three of them were up to date in first responder training, too, just in case they were the first ones on a damaged site after a storm. They spent the entire winter preparing for the storm season, and Lindsay had the nerve to brush it off like it was as easy as buying a video camera and driving to the nearest pasture.

“You know, actually—” I started with a snark in my tone before she cut me off.

“What do you do, Justin?” she asked, her voice sickly sweet.

Justin lifted his chin a fraction. “I work over at SprayGoods.”

“That huge warehouse off 77?”

“That’s the one. I’m on the line every day. Using my hands to build things. You know, actually making a real contribution to the world.”

I stifled a snort by taking another swig of my Native Amber. Lord, he made it sound like he built solar panels for industrial companies or high-grade water filtration systems for the ocean. He pressed a button and watched the line to make sure the machinery didn’t back up while it assembled the nozzles that went on squirt bottles. He hated it, but tonight he acted like it was an honor to work there.

Dash chuckled. “Nothing like assembly work to really make a man feel more . . . manly.” He finished off his beer and signaled to Diana for another one.

I raised my bottle, too, though I hadn’t even finished it yet—the tension between the two men was palpable. I’d wanted tonight to be a fun, easy way to introduce them, not a competition for who has a bigger piece in their pants. The thought made me ponder Dash’s equipment for one second too long, and heat rushed to my cheeks. I couldn’t lock those thoughts down even if I had a safe.

I took the last few gulps of my beer quickly. Why had I even bothered begging Justin to come out? He was obviously pissed about it and being rude as a punishment.

“This coming from someone who sings in the rain?” Justin laughed, and to my shock so did Lindsay.

“Dashy doesn’t sing! But that would be funny.” She stroked Dash’s arm. “You could narrate your little clips by singing!”

“Have you even seen his site?” I snapped, my filter growing smaller with each beer I drank. The videos on Dash’s website were all up-close footage of tornadoes in their strongest capacity. Little clips my ass.

“I’ve been on there . . . once.” Lindsay shrugged. “Dashy knows I don’t believe in that stuff anyway,” she said, smiling at him.

Dash pressed his lips together, and I could tell he held back a laugh with difficulty. I eyed him with an
are you serious
look.

“Believe in it? Are you saying extreme weather is something you can choose not to believe exists if you don’t see it in person? Like ghosts or unicorns?” Whoops, I’d blurted that out a little too bluntly.

Dash sprayed his last sip of beer back into the bottle as he laughed.

Lindsay rolled her eyes. “Of course not,” she snapped. “Unicorns definitely don’t exist.”

I sighed, and Dash wiped his mouth off with a napkin. Diana brought the next round to our awkwardly silent table.
Damn it, could this night get any worse?

“This place is lame.” Justin broke the silence.

I cringed. He’d declare his undying love for his Xbox in three . . . two . . .

“We should all go somewhere else,” he suggested, shocking the hell out of me.

“You’re so right,” Lindsay agreed. “Where did you have in mind?”

“Blake, you mentioned ghosts. How about the Ponderosa bridge?”

“You’re not serious.”

“Why not?” Justin asked.

“Because that was fun when we were kids . . .”

We’d made the trek there on our bicycles numerous times when we were younger. It was an old wooden bridge still intact over Black Bear Creek and legend had it Ms. Ponderosa was supposed to meet her fiancé there to elope in secret when her parents denied him her hand in marriage. He’d either never shown and she’d jumped off the bridge, or he
did
show and threw her off in a fury at being denied her inheritance. Either way, we’d never encountered anything, just royally freaked ourselves out.

“Making the trip out there now sounds like a pain in the ass,” I continued. Now that we had cars instead of bicycles, we’d have to park blocks away and make the rest of the trip on foot. A less than desirable idea in the dark and buzzed.

“Yeah, man, people stop doing that around age twelve.” Dash backed me up.

Justin scowled at him before shrugging. “If you’re a scared little bitch, then just say so.”

My mouth dropped open. “Justin!”

“What? I say we take a six-pack out there and have a little fun. The two of you are acting like I suggested we run a half marathon. Sounds more like an excuse because both of you are scared.”