Page 45 of Secret Obsession
It doesn’t matter.
“Aspen!” I yell.
A hand covers my mouth, and I’m dragged away from Violet. My eyes bug out, and I thrash for a second. Not that I make any contact whatsoever.
“Do you have to be so fucking destructive?” Miles says in my ear.
I scoff into his palm. Pretty sure I’m going to have to go right back to the bathroom to fix my lipstick. The asshole. But he doesn’t release me and instead pulls me tighter against him. My back to his front.
My fingers curl around his wrist.
Nothing.
No reaction.
Well, that won’t do.
I push my ass back, swaying slightly when I brush his groin. Andyep, there’s the reaction I’m craving. I guess it’s not enough to have a football player buy me drinks. After all, he didn’t want to leave with me.
“You got a tab going?” Miles asks, his lips still pressed right to my ear.
A shiver trickles down my spine.
“No.” It’s muffled. He hasn’t removed his hand.
Still, he reads me loud and clear, because he goes still. “Then who’s been buying your drinks?”
I jerk my head, and he releases my mouth. I look up at him, craning back and almost losing my balance all over again. Which I would, if he wasn’t holding me upright. His arm across my stomach keeps me against him.
“Who?” he snaps.
“I don’t remember,” I lie. “Maybe it was a bunch—”
“Ricky.” Miles pulls me closer to the bar. He maneuvers me onto a suddenly free stool and steps up behind me, his arm never leaving me. We’re banded together like this. When the bartender looks his way, Miles gestures to me. “Whose tab have her drinks been going on?”
“Pierce,” he replies.
I narrow my eyes and mouth, “Traitor.”
Miles chuckles. “See, wasn’t that easy?”
“Iwasgoing to be easy. For him to take me home,” I reply sweetly, hopping off the stool. I spot Aspen and hurry toward her, feeling Hurricane Miles in my wake.
I latch on to her arm. “Dance with me?”
Her eyes go wide, and I think she’s trying to take in all of me at once. The puffy cheek, the bruises covered in concealer and foundation, the messy lipstick, and however else I might appear. Crazy? Happy? The life of the party?
Steele smirks at her. “Put on a show, sweetheart.”
Her cheeks pinken, but then she’s nodding. I drag her around Steele, using him as a blocker for Miles, who I feel behind us. We go where there’s already a group of people swaying to the overhead music. It’s not really a dancing bar, but the atmosphere after a game is always more playful. Exuberant, even.
I inhale their energy and mimic it. I swing around to face her and shimmy my hips. Aspen frowns, but I move her hands to the beat until she laughs and gives in. She dances with me for a song, then two. Violet joins us, looping my arm around her neck and helping keep me upright.
It’s notmyfault the floor keeps tilting.
“Miles looks like he’s going to murder someone,” Violet says in my ear.
The memory of the murder hedidcommit bursts to the forefront of my mind.
