Devlin
On the night of winter formal two weeks later, Blair is a knockout in a sleek fitted dress that steals my breath as smoothly as she’s stolen everything else—my pain, my walls, my heart.
Beneath the silver and white decorations that transform the gymnasium into a winter wonderland, the dark gray material of Blair’s dress sparkles when it catches the light, like tiny diamonds are woven into the fabric. She places her hand in mine as I offer it to her.
“Want to dance?” I ask.
A slow song filters through the speakers and other couples fill the dance floor. Mr. Coleman hovers at the edge of the room, smiling through his chaperone duties. Surprisingly, Bishop dances with Thea Kennedy, who looks amazing in a sweet pink, flowing dress.
“Prepare yourself for some truly uncoordinated awkwardness.” Blair waves her free hand with a flourish as I take her to an open spot. Color fills her freckled cheeks as I tuck her close, leading us in a smooth sway. She rests one hand on my bicep and the other curls around the back of my neck. “Well, actually. You seem to know what you’re doing.”
“You’re light on your feet and among all of your other troublemaking skills, you’re telling me you can’t dance?”
“Not a lot of opportunities to bust a move while liberating wallets. Want me to moonwalk away next time?”
Blair smirks and I give into the urge to kiss her. I can taste her smile and her joy as we spin in the middle of the dance floor.
We dance for a few more songs. Blair grows more comfortable, letting loose with me.
When a break in the music comes, she fans her face. “Sustenance?”
“Come on, let’s grab a drink.”
I rest my palm at the base of her spine and lead her to the drink station set up in front of a fringe curtain of silver mylar. The table has an explosion of snowflake confetti. Blair picks some up and tosses it high enough to land in my hair, nodding with satisfaction flaring in her eyes when some sticks in my hair. I get her back, picking up a snowflake and pressing it to her cleavage.
Leaning in, I murmur, “I’ll be back for that later. With my teeth.”
She bites her lip around a grin and presses onto her toes to kiss me, grabbing my lapels. I squeeze her waist.
“How much later? Maybe I’m not too good for a little action in a deserted classroom after all.”
A devious chuckle drops from my lips. Before I can retort with something alluring, Trent and Sean amble up to the drinks table with cocky swaggers. Sean darts a wary look my way. Trent nods to me, his attention quickly turning to Blair. These idiots eye her with a leering appreciation I don’t like. Possessiveness rears up in my chest and I slip my fingers beneath the low cut of her dress to stroke her back.
Sean doesn’t miss the move, his brows jumping up.
“Looking hot as fuck, Davis,” Trent says.
“You really clean up,” Sean adds. “For…you know.”
I nearly growl, ready to teach him another lesson, but Blair presses her hand to my chest. We exchange a look. She silently gives me an I’ve got this expression.
Knowing she can hold her own, I let her take the lead, ready to enjoy the show of these two morons getting eviscerated by my feisty girl.
“Really? Thanks, guys.” She inspects both of their suits. “Can’t say the same for you, though. I can see the condom stash sticking out of your pocket, Sean.” Blair tsks, shaking her head with mock sympathy. “A bit ambitious, and I don’t think Bailey’s DTF anymore after you started that rumor. You know, the one where you wanted a live-in sex slave to fulfill your needs.”
Sean blinks stupidly. “Wh—You little—”
“Stop.” The command in my tone pulls him up short before he can reach out to grab Blair. Sean flinches and Trent seems surprised by my expression. “You don’t touch her. Or look at her like that.”
Blair leans into me. We fight our battles together, balanced and unified as one.
“Shit—hold on to that thought.” Blair peels away, hurrying to the other side of the room, where Bishop is in Thea’s face, pinning her against the wall.
Trent scoffs. “What a bitch. Dude, when are you ditching that gold digging clinger?”
White-hot anger unfurls in my chest. I reach out and snatch Trent by the collar, jamming my thumb into the hollow of his throat. Trent’s face melts into shock as he clutches my arm in an attempt to throw me off.
“Never. If you keep talking shit about my girlfriend, you’re going to regret it.” My gaze snaps to Sean. “Both of you. I hate repeating a lesson. Do I make myself clear?”