I’ve turned into a total cliché again. But this time I’m a positive one. I might start singing cheesy eighties anthems because I feel like nothing’s gonna stop me now and all that crap.
The guys step back and form a semicircle around Jen and me as we dance, hooting and hollering and generally acting like perverts. We encourage them, swaying our hips, thrusting out our chests. I’m not even dressed that sexily. I went for casual with my jeans and a cute plaid shirt I found on clearance at Target, leaving it open with a white tank underneath.
Casually cute, I guess, because who am I trying to impress? Originally, my guy isn’t supposed to be here.
He still isn’t.
Another song comes on, this one slow, and everyone on the floor seems to vacate all at once. Jen and I send each other a silent message and we exit the dance floor as well, heading toward the bar. Jen scoots her skinny ass in between a crowd of people and somehow garners the bartender’s immediate attention, ordering us both a glass of ice water.
When she finally hands me the drink I chug it, the cold water soothing my parched throat. The lights have gone completely dim as a few couples slow dance together, most of them hardly moving, their feet shuffling as they focus on groping each other instead.
I’m thankful for the break but I also miss Drew. Seeing the dancing couples lights a deep yearning within me. We’ve been dancing for over an hour. I thought he would be here by now, so where is he?
“I need to get going soon.” Jen pushes her damp hair away from her forehead. “Is your boyfriend coming to get you or what?”
“I thought so.” I glance around the room but I can’t see anything. It’s too damn dark.
“Huh.” She sips her drink. “No way am I leaving you here alone waiting for him. I can drive you home.”
“You don’t have to—”
Jen cuts me off. “I picked you up, I can definitely take you home. Don’t worry about it.”
“Cool. Thanks.” I nod once, my shoulders stiff. I refuse to be disappointed. I also refuse to text him. He knows exactly where I’m at so what the hell is taking him so long?
Maybe his dad called him again and needed to talk. Maybe he was going through a tough time over his dad’s anguish with the divorce and I’m being completely selfish wondering where he is. Maybe…
“Let me finish my drink and I’ll be ready to go,” Jen says, interrupting my thoughts.
“Okay.” I drain my ice water and set the glass on a nearby table, ignoring the girls sitting there who shoot me a dirty look. Though it was probably rude, what I just did, I couldn’t care less. I’m irritable.
They’re whispering loudly, probably griping about me and hoping to catch my attention, but I ignore them. I don’t need a bunch of catty bitches’ crap tonight.
The song ends and the lights brighten, flooding the dance floor. One of the most popular songs on the charts comes blasting on and everyone heads out to the floor, including Jen and me since we got caught up in the mass wave.
“One more dance,” she shouts at me and I nod in agreement.
The insult girls are dancing close by, shooting Jen and me rude glares, and I put my back to them, trying my best to enjoy this last song. My nerves are shot, though. The mean girls killed my buzz and I should’ve insisted on leaving before the song started.
But Jen’s into the music, a giant smile on her face as she waves her hands in the air like she just don’t care, yo.
I smile at my own mental joke and throw my hands up in the air, mimicking Jen. The music slowly starts to work its magic, taking me over until all I can feel is the pulse of the bass and the heartfelt lyrics running through my mind. I’m about to be completely swept away with the chorus when I hear one of the mean girls gasp behind me.
“No way! Is that Drew Callahan?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I catch sight of him standing on the opposite side of the room near the door, as if he just entered. He’s squinting as he scans the room, searching for me, no doubt, which sends a flutter of anticipating nerves through my body. He looks cute as hell in a white long-sleeve shirt with a button placket at the neck, the sleeves pushed up to reveal his sexy strong forearms. Jeans, of course, that mold to his thighs and remind me of just how muscular they are. His hair is hanging in his eyes and he pushes it away, flicking his head in irritation.
Pressing my lips together, I want to sigh like a little schoolgirl with my first crush. My man is so damn fine I can hardly stand it. He still hasn’t found me, though. In fact, he looks mighty irritated as he pushes through the crowd, his gaze constantly scanning, and a warm sensation washes over me as I keep moving, my attention half on the girls gushing about Drew and watching him.
“He never goes anywhere,” one of the girls says. “God, he’s so f**king gorgeous it hurts just looking at him.”
I’m tempted to turn and scratch her eyes out but I restrain myself. After all, I’m the one who had him naked and between my legs earlier today. Drew Callahan belongs to me.
“Oh my God, he’s looking this way!” another one screeches.
He’s staring right at me and I can feel the sizzle of his smoldering gaze from clear across the room. Tossing my hair over my shoulder, I send him a sultry smile, hoping like crazy I don’t look like a fool.
Drew sends me a delicious smile right back. But he doesn’t come toward me. I can still hear those girls going on and on about him. They need to know he’s mine. I’m desperate for them to know he’s mine.
So I watch him. And I want him. But no way am I going to approach him. He has to come and get me first.