Page 13 of Let's Call a Truce
I turned on him, focusing on the insult to my friend instead of the compliment to me. This is what I needed. Snippy comments and arguments that lit a fire under my skin. Not compliments about my appearance. Not sexy thumb sucking. Not heavy stares that made my insides jelly. We were supposed to beateach other’s throats, not thinking about licking them.
“You don’t know me. And you don’t know how I like to spend my time or who I like to spend it with. You are such a conceited asshole, you assume you’re better than someone else because you’re a bit smarter.”
“A bit?”
I groaned loud enough for him to hear it over the music, and he rewarded me with another smirk.
“God, you are the worst.” I moved to walk away, and Ben grabbed my forearm. The touch was like a brand, and I fought the urge to rip my body away.
“Look. We both love Asia and want her to have a good time.” He kept his tone even. “After everything she’s done for us, the least we can do is not piss her off on her birthday. Let’s call atruce, just for tonight. Tomorrow we can go back to biting each other’s heads off.”
I raised a skeptical brow. “A truce.”
“Yeah, we’ll be like those soldiers who stopped fighting for Christmas. Asia’s birthday is our Christmas.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip. Did he know about my battle log? His expression gave nothing away, and I chalked it up to coincidence. I was too obsessive about my computer to have left it where anyone could find it.
“Did you just equate our working relationship to one of the world wars?”
“Do you think that’s inaccurate?” he asked with a boyish grin, and I laughed despite myself.
He flagged the bartender down and ordered another round of shots, toasting to our newfound truce. This time, I kept my eyes away from him.
Several drinks and shots in, and I rounded the tipsy base, shooting straight home to drunk. It had been years since I drank like this. I rarely had days when I wasn’t responsible for the girls, and I didn’t know how it would hit me tonight. My limbs felt light, like I was going to float off the ground, my body responding to the music as my self-consciousness faded away.
Asia and Dani ran over to the bar, towing me to the dance floor. I stumbled after them, knowing between the alcohol and my natural lack of coordination I would never keep up but past the point of caring, even if Dani spent the rest of the night teasing me.
The music thudded loud enough to shake my bones as I let myself go. Dani grabbed my hand, pulling me closer so we could dance for a few songs, laughing, twirling, and swaying together. The night was passing in a blur of sweaty bodies and changing tempos. The stress of my obligations slid away.
I didn’t think about school schedules or work meetings. Fearsover whether the girls were supported, or if Christina thought I was doing a good-enough job or working long enough hours were left off the dance floor. My only thought was about the music, the way it affected me, and how it made my body move.
Ben leaned against the bar, a smirk on his lips as he watched me dance. I tensed, realizing my moves had likely handed him his newest ammo in our ongoing war. I was ready to fight off my embarrassment through sheer force of will, but Ben’s eyes dropped, following the lines of my body with a hungry look. I’d seen hints of that hunger over the years, when we were arguing or he was teasing me. But the sheer force of it now, free of the office constraints that had kept us in check over the years, had me tensing in an entirely new way.
When his eyes met mine again, there was a dare I couldn’t decide if I should take. Instead, I let him decide, holding his gaze but not moving toward him. I watched his throat work as he downed his drink before heading my way. I was too hot, and I couldn’t blame it on the bodies filling up the dance floor.
He didn’t stop until he was inches from my body, dropping his head down to my ear.
“Dance with me?”
I shivered as his breath tickled my neck.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” But I found myself inching closer as I moved with the music.
“I think it’s a great fucking idea.” His deep, guttural voice raced along my skin, continuing to pull me toward him like a sexy, growly tractor beam.
For once, I didn’t argue with him. His hand came to my waist, and I arched into his touch. I’d take one dance, here in a club dark enough to keep my poor decisions hidden. We agreed to a one-night truce, so why not have a little fun with it?
He pulled me flush against him, and my hands slid up and over his shoulders without telling them to. Shock waves ran upmy arms as I settled into his body. He sighed in my ear when I toyed with the hair at the base of his head, allowing myself a moment to savor his silken strands after two years of wondering how it would feel between my fingers.
We moved together, both getting lost in the music as the songs passed, and I let one dance turn into more. I breathed heavier as I noticed how well our bodies fit together.
He spun me around, bringing my back to his front, and I let my head drop back onto his chest. A ball of tension curled deep in my stomach, fueled by my lowered inhibitions and the way his hands gripped me. He slid them from my waist down to my hips, and when he squeezed me there, I almost melted. I wanted them to continue their trek down, to find out how much he affected me.
“Come home with me.” His voice was just loud enough for me to hear him over the music. I shook my head. I was drunk, but notthatdrunk. “Why not?”
I turned my head, lifting my hand to the back of his neck so I could pull his ear to my mouth. I barely resisted the urge to take his earlobe between my teeth. “Because we hate each other, and tomorrow, when the alcohol burns off and our truce is over, we’ll both remember that.”
“You don’t hate me.” His lips brushed the shell of my ear.
