Finding Dandelion (Dearest #2) (5 page)

“You look stunning, girl.” Travis’s breath smells like orange juice and vodka. “I love the garters.” He reaches down and tugs on the ribbon holding up my tights, and I swat his hand.

“I look like a hooker.” In the quiet of my friend’s apartment as I was getting ready, this seemed like a good idea—dress up, dance my ass off wearing a crazy outfit, and get out of myself for a little while—but now I’m not so convinced. Aside from the leotards I used to sport when I did gymnastics, I’ve never gone out flashing so much skin. But I have to admit I like the Mary Janes that give me a couple of extra inches on my five-four frame.

“You do, and it looks fucking fabulous,” my girlfriend Margo shouts in my ear, making it ring. “What time are your roommates coming?”

“I’m not sure,” I yell. “I haven’t seen them yet.”

After a few back-and-forth texts with Jenna, I finally realize that tonight’s outing is to celebrate Clem’s twenty-first birthday. All of their friends are meeting up for a few drinks before the club, but since I only really know Jenna, I opted to skip the party and spare myself some awkwardness.

“This bra hurts,” I say, tugging it down.

“But these babies are going to make some guy so happy.” Margo’s hands wrap around my boobs and squeeze, making me wince.

Why my friend thinks she can grope me, much less in the middle of the dance floor, makes me shake my head. Laughing, I look up and lock eyes with… the most beautiful guy I’ve ever seen. Holy sweet Jesus.

He’s tall and lean but muscular. His hair is short on the sides and a little longer on top, flopping into his eyes and drawing my attention to those high cheekbones and some seriously pouty lips. He’s wearing a fitted long-sleeved black Henley and jeans. Judging by the smirk on his face, he clearly saw Margo feeling me up.

God, there is something so familiar about him.

I stare. He stares back.

My heart stops beating.

“I need a drink. A very, very strong drink.” I turn and beeline straight to the bar where Travis’s Uncle Joe bartends. Yes, when faced with a total hottie, I run like hell. #SoSmooth

The plan for tonight? Drink. Heavily. Dance. Pretend Hot Guy didn’t see Margo clutch my boobies. And hopefully live to see tomorrow.

“What’ll it be, Dani?” Joe wipes condensation off the counter and reaches for a martini glass. “The usual?”

“Yes!” I have to shout over the music so he can hear me. Even though none of us are twenty-one yet, Travis’s uncle knows we won’t do anything stupid, so he gets us in and lets us have a few drinks.

He hands me an apple martini and waves off my money when I try to pay. “You’re cage dancing. Booze is on the house.”

I grin and lean over the bar to grab a cherry off the tray of garnishes.

Crossing his burly arms over his chest, he shakes his head. “It’s only ’cause you’re so cute that I don’t kick your ass for that.” His mouth twists as he tries to look tough, and I wink at him and head back to my friends.

When I find Margo and Travis, they look pissed.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, taking a swig of my sweet concoction.

Margo bumps me with her elbow and nods her head across the dance floor. “Asshole is here.”

That can only mean one person. My ex. Reid.

“He hates clubs,” I mutter.

It’s ironic that he was always calling me uptight because he’s the one who never wanted to go clubbing, and yet here he is, twenty feet away, looking all preppy in a dark polo. Damn. He looks good. A second later, Ashley sidles up next to him and plants her mouth on his. I actually see her tongue extend before their lips connect. Gross.

I chug the rest of my drink, hoping the booze will ease the ache in my chest, and turn back toward my friends.

“I’ve had two drinks. Let’s do this before I lose my nerve.” Because nothing distracts a girl from her former lover like writhing around in a cage.

When I get to the platform, I turn around and bump into Travis, who has to grab me to keep me from falling over. Once I’m steady, he holds me by my shoulders and leans down.

“Dani, I know I put this on your list, but if you’re not comfortable, you don’t have to go through with it.”

“I’m not backing out. Not with dickhead down there.” I put my mouth against his ear and whisper, “Do I look okay?” I brush down my skirt. Man, it’s short.

“You look like sex on a stick, and he’s going to be blue-balling himself all over the club when he sees your hot little ass up there.” Travis pats me on the bum and shoos me up the small steps. Thankfully, there are five other cages, so it’s not like I’m the main attraction.

When we got here, Travis’s uncle said one of the girls called in sick, so my best friend kindly suggested that I take her place. I’ve been here enough times to know how the girls move, and if I don’t think too hard about it, I should be okay.

As I get to the top of the stairs, I turn back to give Travis a nervous smile. It’s now or never. I gulp, wishing I had another drink, and strut into the cage before I can rethink this.

Closing my eyes, I feel the beat in my chest, and I let my hips move while I grip the bars like my life depends on it.
The crowd is busy. No one will notice you.

I’ve always been a decent dancer, probably from years of gymnastics. Hopefully, I’ll check off item number four on my list without making a total ass of myself.

I start to let myself go, and the pounding in my heart subsides and is replaced with the driving rhythm of music. The lights pulse above, and I swirl my hips and thrust my chest and move. Heat flushes my cheeks. Sweat beads on my skin.

Feeling braver, I open my eyes. At first I just look at the floor of the cage. It takes another few minutes before I brave looking out into the crowd. And then I wish I hadn’t.

Because staring at me is Hot Guy.

I’m not good at being coy. That’s Margo’s game. She can lure them in and chew them up before they realize what’s happening.

Somewhere in my alcohol-addled brain, I decide to pretend I’m her. Why didn’t I think of this sooner? This is just a game. No biggie. Why am I so serious all the time? See, this is what my mother is always talking about. I’m too structured. Too rigid.
Too damn nice.
Anger starts to pound through my veins as I think of all the times I’ve been called that word. Reid called me nice. Screw nice.

I wink at Hot Guy and decide I definitely need more alcohol. Looking to the side of the cage, I see Travis, and I make a drinking motion, and he nods.

I continue to dance until he steps into the cage with my martini, which I chug.

“Damn, girl. Take it easy.”

“I’m not drunk enough to do this.”

He pushes up against me and smiles. “Move over. You’re hogging the limelight.”

Travis grabs my hips and spins me so I’m facing the crowd. Then he pulls me tight and grinds against me, making me gasp.

“I thought you weren’t into girls,” I yell.

“As much as I’d love to say this boner is for you, I was dancing with Evan a few minutes ago.”

I laugh and dance with him until we’re both hot and sweaty. I thrust my hips back against him and wrap my arms around his neck as his hands wind down my body.

He spins me around to face him, and he dips me back, grinding his hips into mine.
Okay
.

When he pulls me up, he laughs at my expression. “Was that too much?” he whispers in my ear.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had this much foreplay before with a
straight
guy.”

He laughs again and kisses my cheek, turning me back to the crowd. “That’s a shame, honey.”

When I turn back, Hot Guy is gone. Damn.

I search for him, my eyes scanning the crowd, but after half an hour, I finally give up.

My insides feel deflated from the lost potential of tonight as I descend the stairs onto the main dance floor. But who am I kidding? Even if I had talked to that guy, he probably has a girlfriend. Or ten. He’s too gorgeous to be here by himself.

Spotting an opening in the crowd, I decide to head for the bar and drown my disappointment in vodka.

And as I turn, I run straight into Reid and Ashley.

CHAPTER SIX

- Jax -

I’ve been peeling heart stickers off my shirt since I got to Cages. You’d think I’d like kissing all those girls to earn my birthday gift. A weekend skiing at Sugarloaf in Maine can’t be beat. The guys know I love skiing. It takes my mind off all the bullshit at school. But by the third girl, I was done. Kissing that many chicks skeeved me out. Even without tongue. It shouldn’t have—some of them were hot, but after the first few, the thrill was gone.

Looking around the pulsing floor, I don’t see any of our friends yet. I get the distinct feeling Nick has abandoned me for that tall sorority girl we saw on our way in. I’m wondering whether I should wait around for the rest of our friends or take a cab home when I see a girl look down at her bare shoulder.

I take a few steps closer to see the tattoo on her back. It’s a blue star. She turns slightly, and my eyes travel up the length of her. She’s gorgeous, petite with long, dark hair, smooth pale skin, and the face of a fucking angel.

My heart hammers in my chest. Actually hammers. Shit.

Her girlfriend grabs her tits, and she swats her away, laughing.

Then her eyes tilt up toward mine, and she freezes. I can feel the smirk on my face. I can’t hide my amusement from watching her get felt up in the middle of a club.

But before I can talk to her, she turns and bolts the other way. Hmm, wasn’t expecting that.

A slap on my back makes me flinch.

“Hey, man. Gonna head out with Tracy,” Nick says, pointing toward a leggy brunette. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. I’m sure everyone’ll get here soon.” I motion toward his chick. “Have fun.”

The side of his mouth tilts up. “Don’t wait up for me, Mom. You know I like my BU girls.”

As long as he stays the fuck away from my sister, he can go to town. “No doubt. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I head over to the bar that runs against the back of the cavernous room. I’ve already had several shots, and I don’t want to push my luck tonight, so I grab a beer and lean back against a pillar while I scan the crowd and look for the girl with the tattoo.

After a few minutes, I spot her with her friends before she heads toward the platform that runs opposite the bar. Five cages hang down from the ceiling. The one in the middle is empty, and that pretty girl walks up the steps and saunters into the cage before she starts to sway and move.

God, she’s stunning. The cages are bathed in a bright light, and she’s dressed in something that looks straight out of a burlesque with garters, a short gauzy skirt and a skin-tight shirt that puts all of her best assets on display. She’s slender but stacked. I get hard just watching her. I guess that’s the point.

She runs her hands through her thick hair that runs halfway down her back. She’s like a pinup, posing and moving like an erotic fantasy. She has streaks of color in her hair, but I can’t tell what it is from here. She finally opens her eyes, and behind the sultry makeup, I swear there’s a flash of innocence on that gorgeous face. Something about her seems so familiar, but I can’t place her.

A couple of the girls up there look downright stupid, but she’s a great dancer and owns it, grabbing hold of the bars and dancing to the beat. I feel a little like a stalker, standing here, watching her every move.

The music fades away into the solitary beat of a drum. That’s when she looks up and sees me. At first, she glances away. Is she shy? But then, a minute later, she stares back and winks before she twirls away and shakes her hips. Okay, I think my mouth just watered.

When a tall guy walks into her cage and grips her to him, I worry for a second that they’re together, but I think I just saw him grinding up against some other dude ten minutes ago.

But it’s obvious they’re close. They move together like they’ve been partners for a while because she doesn’t seem to mind that his hands are all over her. Fuck, let him be gay.

A couple of my buddies arrive, and I talk to them for a while, but my eyes always gravitate toward her cage.

She finally takes a break and walks back onto the dance floor, and I’m closing the distance between us when two people step in front of her. Her expression looks like something between hurt and disgust.

Thinking fast, I move to her side and wrap my arm around her tiny waist. She jumps, but when she realizes it’s me, her face lights up. “There you are,” she says like she’s known me her whole life.

And then she does the damnedest thing. She reaches up, running her hand along my jaw and into my hair, and draws my face to hers. When her lips reach mine, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. They’re soft, and when she pulls away a second later, I taste apple on my lips.

“Hey, babe,” I say loud enough for her audience.