Not talking.
Everything was chill, then the DJ had to go and put some fuckin’ hip-hop on as if watching her dance to the John Mayer bullshit he was playin’ before wasn’t bad enough.
This is torture, and I’m only two hours in.
I can’t deal with this shit a full weekend.
Demi arches her back, swaying her hips to the music while her friends take turns stepping closer, trying to keep up with her.
They can’t.
Swear the girl’s hips were meant to roll.
Her long, dark blonde hair is teasing the skin of her slightly exposed stomach, eyes closed and arms in the air. She’s lost in her own mind, but only for a few minutes before she opens them again.
For the tenth fucking time, her focus shifts to the asshole whose attention she’s after.
Too bad for D, though, lover boy’s not looking at her.
No, his eyes are glued on the girls playing beer pong, the ones who jump up and down in excitement, even when they miss. The ones who have yet to put their clothes back on when they’ve been out of the water for hours and the sun’s been gone just as long.
I glance to Demi.
Her shoulders fall half of an inch, defeat sneaking its way out of her, but she quickly wipes it away.
A scoff leaves me, and I shake my head when the small group of girls take several steps left, trying really fuckin’ hard to get in Alex’s line of sight. She thinks she’s being chill about it, but she doesn’t know I’m watching.
This shit’s embarrassing to witness.
The DJ announces the last song of the night and doing the opposite of what a closer normally would, the dick chooses to hit it harder, and a song more upbeat than the last comes on. Everyone cheers.
A sudden mischievous gleam covers Demi’s face, one that has me sitting forward in my seat.
This is bound to be bad.
She drops a little lower, bends a little further and moves spades fucking faster, to the point where her girls have no choice but to step back and sway around, admiring as she does her thing.
When even the DJ’s eyes fight for a sight of the blinding blonde in the middle, I push to my feet, and what do you fuckin’ know, Demi’s head snaps my way in the same second.
She falters slightly, her dance moves slowing a bit, body shifting in my direction, by accident I’d bet.
I head toward her in unhurried steps.
The closer I get, the more uneasy she grows, and by the time I’m directly in front of her, the girl has stopped moving completely.
“Hey,” she says hesitantly, her hand coming up to brush the hair from her face. “I didn’t know you were here.”
I lick my lips, pulling my bottom one between my teeth a moment. “’Course not, D. You’ve always had blurred vision.”
She pulls back slightly, but doesn’t ask what I mean.
She should.
“You said you weren’t coming.”
“Changed my mind.”
She nods, peeking toward her friends a moment before bringing those eyes back to mine. “So... what’s up?”
“Testosterone. Your little show was as effective as you hoped.”
She bristles, her brows slanting into a frown. “Excuse me?”
“That’s probably a good idea, or I might have to call your ma, tell her you’re not behaving well,” I rag her.
Her eyes flash with surprise, hardening only a second later.
I know she’s hoping I’ll walk away, let her have her fun with her friends, but the night’s done, and so is her playtime.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” she hisses, looking around to see who’s watching.
Bet money lover boy is now.
The thought has me wanting to walk the fuck away from her.
I don’t, but she does.
She jerks from the group, storms across the sand, and throws open the double glass doors, hurrying down the hotel hallway.
Don’t matter though, the song was already over, and people are starting to head for their rooms just the same.
I catch her by the elbow right before she passes my door, hers, unbeknownst to her, being the one right beside it, and push her against it, overcrowding her body.
I lock her in, but she beats me to speak.
“When the hell did you talk to my mom?” she questions me angrily.
“You seem as surprised by her little visit as I was.”
“What did she say to you?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
She gapes at me, but it quickly morphs into a frown, one I’m not so sure is meant for me.
“So, Little D, all that for Alex Hammons?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do.”
A laugh bubbles out of her and she crosses her arms. “Why do you even care?”
“I don’t, but it was disgustingly obvious,” I sneer. “Sad really. You should tone it down a bit, not come off so willing.”
Her jaw clenches as she tries to hold back but can’t.
“Maybe I am,” she says with a fake ass lack of concern.
“Any other girl would realize if a guy doesn’t notice her on his own it’s a lost cause.”
“What do you know about having to fight for someone’s attention?” she snaps.
This time it’s me that lets out a humorless laugh.
She tries to look away, but I drop my forehead to hers to keep her facing forward, and her eyes darken, in annoyance maybe, but the pink tinting her cheeks has nothing to do with the sunburn she got today.
More and more voices fill the area, so I cut my stare down the hall. My eyes narrow, spotting Alex and Sandra walking this way, to his room, I’d bet.
He laughs at something she said and then looks up, spotting me standing here with Demi in front of me and an instant frown pulls at his brows.
Fuck, man.
He makes an excuse that gets Sandra to pause with him and they talk in place, where he can pretend he’s not fixated on us.
I look back to D.
Tension has her face drawn tight as she nibbles at her lower lip.
“You’re seriously trippin’ on him?”
She ignores me but can’t hide the dejection eating at her.
The longer I look into her eyes, the more a really dumb thought settles in low in my gut, and once it starts, there’s no stopping it.
My mind fucking races, nothing but flashes of the pretty little dancer in front of me spinning round and round and god damn.
No.
No, no... bad idea.
Talk about the possibility of full force backfire and now knowing for sure she wants him? It’ll be worse. Harder.
Unless...
Her green eyes are low and on mine, a hint of gentle concern hidden behind the unease.
What are you worried about, D?
“Nico...” She trails off, her gaze roaming across my face, noticing the question written across it.
He’s seen me with her, in her space. This can be read a lot different than what it is, not much I can do to erase that.
What choice do I have at this point, right?
Right.
Fuck, I shouldn’t.
I do it anyway.
I keep my eyes on hers, needing to witness first-hand the look in hers as I slide my hand across her stomach until I reach the loop on her little shorts. I bring her against me.
Her hip almost meets mine she’s so tall, five-eight or nine to my six three.