I watch her disappear and get swallowed up in the sea of strangers. I want to chase after her. I want to hunt her down and pin her to a wall and push my tongue into her mouth and hold her ass and… Holy fuck, I need air.
I turn in the opposite direction from where she retreated and shove my own way through the bodies. I end up in the men’s restroom because it’s the first door I can find. I push inside, put my hands on the countertop and hang my head. I take a deep, ragged breath.
What the fuck did I just do?
When we stumbled upon Leah, Jessie and Ashleigh at the front of the bar, I knew what was coming. An all-out couples fest. Jordan and Jessie would spend the rest of the night groping each other. Cole and Leah would drown everyone in their sickly sweet adorableness. Devin and Ashleigh would disappear together back to the hotel. So I went in search of Rose. I had wanted to find a partner in crime. Someone to laugh and have a beer with. But when I found her, she was dancing. She looked so fucking sexy in the tiny, backless red dress with her slender hips and perfect ass rolling and swaying with the thumping bass—something in me snapped.
I knew she was looking for someone to touch her and suddenly I couldn’t control the need: I had to be the one who did. Somewhere in the back of my mind I told myself that when she realized it was me I could crack a joke and blow it off. But when she turned and caught my eye, it was too late to lie about what I was feeling. My dick was rock hard and I couldn’t take my hands off her; it was like they were crazy-glued to the fabric of her dress.
So I waited, barely breathing, for her to freak out. I expected her to yell at me, shove me and just generally reject, but she didn’t. She just kept dancing against me, moving her hips into me, gazing at me with this sultry look on her normally innocent face. I didn’t know if she was teasing me or what, but I didn’t care.
She was so sexy and gorgeous and I suddenly realized I had to tell her. I wanted her to know, fuck the consequences. Fuck my team, fuck the media, fuck it all. She’s the hottest fucking woman I have ever seen in my life and she needs to know. But when I opened my mouth to confess, she suddenly tried to bolt.
She was just going to leave me there, with tight pants and a thundering heart, alone in the middle of a club. I couldn’t let it happen. Obviously she was in no mood to hear confessions or words of any kind. If she wanted some random, meaningless, wordless hook-up, then I would give it to her. I’d give her anything she wanted right then. So I pulled her back, daring her to grind that perfect ass against me again. And she did—willingly.
Her skin glistened with perspiration and looked so inviting, I couldn’t help but taste it. I thought it might get me punched, kicked in the nuts even, but she just started turning toward me slowly. Her mouth was open, her pretty pink tongue visible, and I wanted to taste that too.
I took a chance, she responded and… holy hell. It was entirely too short a time, but when someone bumped us and she moved away, my dick ached like nothing I had ever felt before and my balls were throbbing. I was embarrassed and horrified by my body’s uncontrollable, extreme reaction and before I knew what to do, or what to say, she was gone.
“What the fuck just happened?” I whisper urgently to the universe as the restroom door flies open and a couple of guys barge in. I can tell by the odd looks on their faces that I must look as crazed on the outside as I feel on the inside.
I storm out of the bathroom and push and shove my way through the mass of people toward the exit. I’m not subtle, or polite, and some guys shove back. I actually think of turning and clocking a few of them, but I’m a professional hockey player on the verge of being shopped for a trade by my team: I can’t afford a mug shot.
I stumble down the boardwalk in the direction of our hotel. It’s windy, and as cool, salty ocean air hits my face, I start to calm down and really think about why I just broke the only rule I’d set for myself in a long time—with the girl I’ve treated like a sister since I was fifteen.
I knew, logically, I had so many reasons to stay away from Rose. It was more than just my career, but on that dance floor, I finally reached a breaking point. She wasn’t even trying to wreck me. She didn’t even know I was there. I have no one to blame for this but myself. I have to fix it. I have to somehow find a way to never touch her like that again and keep our friendship intact. I feel like juggling flaming hockey pucks would be easier, but I have to find a way.
Now, back at the hotel, I go straight up to Rose’s room and pound on the door, even though I still have no idea what I’m going to say to her. When it opens, Callie is standing there in nothing but boy shorts and a black tank. Her toothbrush is hanging out of her mouth.
“Where’s the fire, Luc?” she asks.
I push past her, almost knocking her into the wall.
“Whoa!” she says, startled.
I stand over the bed staring down at her. Callie walks up beside me.
“She’s asleep… well, passed out is probably a better term.” Callie kicks the bed. It shakes but Rose remains motionless, curled into the fetal position, still in her little red dress, her hair splayed crazily across the pillow. I smile. She’s beautiful.
“Are you all right? Did you guys fight again?”
I shake my head no.
“Good,” Callie responds and wanders back to the bathroom to continue brushing her teeth. I pull the duvet that’s crumpled at the bottom of the bed up and over Rose and then, impulsively, I bend down and kiss her cheek. When I turn to leave, Callie is leaning on the bathroom doorframe with a curious look on her features.
“Night, Callie.”
“Good night, Luc.”