Hardwood - K.M. Neuhold Page 0,33

grabs onto my hand to keep from losing me.

I finally spot Mia and Jordy at a small table near the back wall. Tightening my grip on Ev’s hand, I pull him along with me until we reach them.

The minute Jordy’s eyes land on Ev, they go as wide as saucers, greedily taking in the expanse of his bare chest, his jeans seeming to have slipped lower thanks to the weight of his belt as we fought our way through the crowd.

“Sad, I thought you might be one of the pink ladies too,” Mia says while Jordy tries to pick his jaw up off the floor and stop drooling over my man…I mean Everett.

“I’m too pure to be pink,” Ev jokes and I nearly swoon on the spot. A man who can quote Grease, has pierced nipples, and is good with kids. I swear someone is testing me.

“We need drinks,” I say. “Take a seat, I’ll go grab some.”

“Thanks.”

Luckily, they probably got here early enough to get a table close to the bar, so I don’t have far to go or too many people to shove out of the way. And, of course, my years of flirting with Van have paid off as he serves me right away. I ignore the dirty looks I get from the less fortunate souls still waiting for their drinks and head back to the table.

“Drink up, we have dancing to do,” I tell him as I hand his drink over.

“Are we sure that’s wise? It’s pretty crowded,” he points out. “At least last time the dance floor was sparse enough that I couldn’t hurt anyone with my extreme talent.”

“You’re looking at this all wrong,” I say, taking a sip from my drink. “Last time you had too much space to flail. I bet you’ll be a much better dancer in a bigger crowd.”

“He can’t be worse,” Jordy offers helpfully.

“No, I don’t think he can,” I agree.

“Hey,” he protests indignantly, and we all laugh.

Everett

I can’t stop looking at Watson as we down our drinks, shouting over the noise to talk and not really getting anywhere with it. His lipstick is already wearing off on the glass, each sip he takes making it fainter, but what I really can’t stop staring at is the way the spandex outfit contours to his body like a glove. I want to peel it off of him, slowly exposing every inch of his skin. My breath hitches at the thought, my cock thickening and pressing against the zipper of my jeans.

While Watson was at the bar grabbing our drinks, Jordy casually mentioned what a big hookup night tonight usually is, and how it might be a great chance to dip my toes into the water if I’m ready.

I’m so far past ready it’s not even funny. But I don’t want the bunny in the jockstrap who’s trying to catch my eye from behind Watson or the nearly naked guy wearing the Batman mask who winked at me when we came in. What I do want is the adorable man dressed as Sandy, trying extremely hard to tell his friends a story over the din of the bar and shooting me glances every few seconds to make sure I’m still paying attention, as if anything could distract me.

Maybe it means I’m thickheaded that he’s told me over and over we’re only friends, and I still can’t shake this crush. He glances over at me again, and I catch the slightest tilt of his lips as our eyes linger on each other’s for a few seconds. My heart beats faster, and I could swear I’m not the only one feeling whatever this is.

After a few seconds, he tears his gaze away from mine and throws back the rest of his drink. He sets his empty glass on the table and leans in. I mirror his movement, bringing us so close I can feel the heat of his body and feel his breath fanning over my skin as he speaks near my ear.

“Ready to dance?”

“As I’ll ever be,” I answer, finishing my drink and following him to the dance floor.

Unlike last time, there’s no open space on the floor. It’s a sea of writhing bodies, and all we can do is find a little bit of space to force our way into. There’s not even enough room to keep a friendly amount of distance between us as we dance, not that I’m about to complain when Watson starts to move his hips to the