The Bad Boy's Dance (26 page)

              “Hey guys,” I greeted. Dana glared at Jason balefully.

              “Babe, hear me out, I’m sorry I haven’t bought the tickets yet,” Jason pleaded. Dana stormed off, Jason at her heels. The rest of us sat on the table and extracted our lunches. Kyle watched them leave, a strange expression on his face.

              Kyle and Caleb talked about their upcoming soccer match with our rival high school, Montecello High.

              “Are you guys scared?” I queried, taking a bite of my cookie. “After all, I heard they’re vicious players.”

              Kyle scoffed. “We can take them anywhere, anytime, anyplace. We’re the Darwin Finches!”       

              “Funny, he says that now, yet runs for the hills the minute they walk in,” Caleb mumbled, cursing when Kyle smacked the back of his head.

              Dana and Jason returned, looking much happier. I wondered what Jason had said to appease her. Once you set off Dana’s temper, you were in for a veritable Hurricane Katrina.

              “Well look who the cat dragged in,” Kyle muttered.

              The Plastics entered, looking as spiffy and posh as always. Brenda flipped her golden hair over a shoulder as she delicately picked at her food. She was sitting next to Asher, who looked utterly bored. Brett sat on the other side of the table, glaring at him. No wonder, since Asher had publicly kicked the tar out of him like it was just another Tuesday.

              “Ivy?” I was poked in the arm.

              “What?”

              “You were staring,” Caleb commented.

              “Must have zoned out,” I mumbled.

              Kyle stretched, popping his bones. I winced at the sound. “Sorry, forgot you hate that noise. I’ve got to run, Coach wants to go over a few details with me. I’ll see you guys later.” With one lingering glance at Dana, he gathered his things and left.

              They resumed talking, but I was distracted by the Plastic’s table. Asher and Brenda appeared to be caught in an intense argument. I watched as Brenda flushed with anger and Asher smirked, his eyes cold.

              “I don’t know how you spend so much time with him, Ives. He’s so…unnerving,” Dana murmured, also watching Asher’s exchange with Brenda.

             
That’s what makes it fun.

             
I shrugged. “He doesn’t act that way with me.”

              Caleb took a bite of his lettuce and nearly spat. “This is cabbage. My mother has got to stop trying to force feed me cabbage!”

              Caleb’s mother was a health nut, and her latest obsession was with cabbage, because it apparently prevented health issues by opening up your
chi.

              The bell rang as Caleb was depositing his lunch, and with regretful sighs, we parted for our classes. I dropped into my seat in Physics and waved at Phoebe, who came over to chat. She perched carefully on the seat next to me and smiled, pushing her huge glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Hi Ivy.”

              “Hey Phoebe! How’re you liking this class?”

              She glanced at the board and cringed. “My nightmares ask me about their electrical charge.”

              Giggling, I talked to the cute junior for a few minutes before she spotted Asher and booked it back to her seat, giving me one last smile.

              Asher slid into the chair next to me as the final bell blared. There was no time to interrogate him on where we were going after school because we had notes to take and worksheets to fake.

              We didn’t have a chance to talk until Dance. I changed clothes in the locker room quickly and exited to find him sitting on the floor, back against the wall.

              “I demand you tell me,” I said immediately, sliding to the floor besides him.

              He flicked a glance at me. “You really want to know?”

              “Yeah!”

              He stood, outstretching his hand for me to take. “Let me show you.”

              “But we can’t ditch class! And I’m not dressed.”

              “Don’t worry. For once, don’t worry, and just trust me, okay?”

              I bit my lip, torn. But the sincerity shining from his cobalt eyes decided for me.

              I trusted Asher.

              Asher blindfolded me in the car, and to say I was nervous would be like saying a serial killer just has a
tiny
bit of a temper.

              “We’re here,” Asher announced, and I heard a car door slam. A minute later, he was leading me onto the pavement, and I clutched to his hand to keep from falling.

              We stopped, and his deft fingers were undoing the knots of my blindfold. I had to blink a few times to adjust to the sudden light, but when my vision cleared, I gasped, my hand flying to cover my mouth.

              “H-how…?” I murmured.

              I tore my gaze away to look at Asher, who was holding open the door for me. He shrugged a shoulder, eyes never wavering from my face. “You weren’t the only one who did your research, angel. I found out a few things too.”

              I stared at him in disbelief until he reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me inside. It was so surreal, being back in the place where I’d had so many memories. Where my dreams were born, where my hopes blossomed.              

              My old dance studio. I remembered my instructors drilling me for hours on routine, and the other girls and I ignoring them and dancing as we pleased. I’d spent the better part of my childhood here. Hell, the scout that found me was from here.

              “Thank you,” I whispered. I would never have thought to come back here. Asher waved my gratitude away and held out his hand.

              “Come on. We’ve got a National Dance Tournament to win.”

              He walked over to the far end of the oval studio. Mirrors surrounded us on all sides, and a sparkling chandelier dangled from the roof. Most of the windows were covered with a royal red drape, so only a few slivers of sunshine shone inside.

              Asher hovered over an iPod deck. “Ready?”

              “Of course.”

              He flipped it on and came to stand in front of me. The Enrique Iglesias song “Tonight I’m Loving You” started to play, and I felt the beat wash over me, setting the rhythm and rhyme of our movements.

              I began to move, my arms and hips revolving tirelessly. To see Asher dance was truly a sight for sore eyes. His sinewy muscles changed from lethal to graceful as he advanced, grabbing my hand and flipping me over his shoulder. It was almost surreal, dancing with him in this dance studio, a spectacular clash of past and present.

              For the next few minutes, the only sound was that of our labored breathing, the music, and the sounds of our feet as we flew across the dance floor, perfectly in synch.

              Energy flowed between us, thrumming like an electrical cord. I could see our reflections as we danced, and I understood why Mrs. Knut thought we really stood a chance at winning the NDT.

              We bought the dancing to
life.

              The climax of the song began, and our movements became faster with the beat. Asher spun me across from him, arm outstretched, then as he was spinning me back, knelt and pushed my body over his shoulder and under his arm so I faced him again.

              The song ended, and we were in the same position as the first time we’d danced, on our knees in front of each other. Our breaths mingled as we panted.

              A lock of Asher’s hair had stuck to his forehead, and his cobalt eyes were intense, watching me with a fervor that spawned elephant butterflies in my stomach. Without breaking his gaze, I reached out and brushed the lock of dark hair away from his forehead, letting my hand linger for a second too long.

             
What are you doing?

             
“S-sorry,” I said, looking away from him and at my hands. Neither of us had gotten up yet.

             
Change the subject before he gets uncomfortable with your creeper ass.

             
“Um, you are a really great dancer. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that,” I rambled, aware that Asher’s eyes hadn’t left my face. “We have a good shot at finishing the class early and everything. We could-”

              My incoherent babbling was stopped when Asher placed his hand over my mouth. He stared at me, indecision marring his gorgeous features before being overcome with resolve.

              He removed his hand. “Angel,” he said. “Shut up.”

              And then he kissed me.

              Surprise stupefied me for a second. He pulled me closer, his strong hands tight on my waist. My body finally reacted, and oh, did it
react.
I wrapped one arm around his neck, and the other dove into his mass of his silky dark hair. My heartbeat was off the charts as his had slid up my spine.

              I could tell Asher was about to pull away, probably worried I’d be offended, so I deepened the kiss, not bothering to come up for air. I had a dancer’s lungs, I could do it.

              With an animalistic growl, Asher lurched to his feet, still holding me. I locked my ankles around his waist as he backed me against the wall. Everything I’d felt over the past few weeks bubbled over, exploding in passion.

              It helped that he was So. Freaking. HOT.

              He trailed kisses down my throat as I caught my breath, leaving a scorching trail of fire wherever his lips touched. My heart thundered as I pulled his lips back to mine, and at that moment, I
felt
the difference Asher was having on me.

              For the first time in so long, I felt
alive
again.

              A sharp shrilling snapped us from our frenzy. Asher groaned, pulling back to brace his forehead with mine. “This better be good,” he rasped, letting me slide to the floor on weak knees. He answered his phone with a barked, “What?”

              “For the love of- you’ve got to be fucking kidding,” he said a minute later. With one last look at me, he motioned for me to stay put and went outside to finish the call.

              I used the wall to slide to the ground. Every bone in my body felt like ash, burned to a crisp from the heat that had flown between us.

             
Uh-oh.

             
This was bad. Like, full- scale teen drama crisis bad.

              I’d just had what was possibly the most amazing kiss of my life from Asher. My dance partner, notorious womanizer, heartbreaker, criminal, etc.

              Did I accidentally eat Caleb’s crazy cabbage or something?

              No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t make myself regret it. The kiss had been sensational, and quite frankly, I wanted to do it again. Running a hand through my sweat-tangled hair, I pondered when I’d lost complete and utter control of my sanity.

              But I was I ready for a relationship? Could I do it? Asher had never given me a reason to fear him, and I was certain he would amputate his own hand before using it against me violently.

              There was also the fact that, much as I wished I could ignore it, Asher didn’t have the best track record with women. He used them, and yet they still fell in love with him. Just look at Brenda Curtis. If someone as cold and manipulative as her could fall for Asher, then I was a goner. He’d already broken down my defenses. It would be no trial to weasel into my heart.

              There was also his current…
situation
to add to this Jenga of trouble. Like Trevor Garibaldi, and Derevko, and Hayden Grayson. Asher had demons after his blood, but that wasn’t his fault. He was carrying a responsibility he shouldn’t, and honestly?

              It just made me like him more.

              How did this happen? How did I go from wanting to tear his larynx out to wanting to make out with him like a hormonal teenager? He’d gotten under my skin, and I didn’t know how to get him out.

              The door opened, and I tensed. Asher strolled in, dropping his phone back into his bag before straightening. I got to my feet, staying against the wall. I crossed my hands over my chest and tried to calm my pulse.

              “Are you going to ignore me for long, angel?” he asked, leisurely making his way towards me.

              So much for controlling my pulse.

              I briefly met his eyes before examining my nails with complete fascination. “W-we shouldn’t have done that, Asher.”

              He stopped in front of me, and disbelief flashed across his face. “Are you joking? I’m pissed I didn’t do that earlier. Are you going to tell me you didn’t enjoy it?”

              “Whether or not I enjoyed it isn’t the issue,” I gulped. “We don’t work together. I’m way too high maintenance, and not right for you. We barely work as friends.”

              Asher used his arms to cage me, leaning his closer to me. Anger and hurt were evident in his expression, until they were replaced with the determination in him I found so admirable.

              “You’re afraid, angel. None of your excuses can justify why this,” he motioned between our bodies, “shouldn’t happen.”

              “We’re fighting not to wring each other’s necks half the time we’re together, Asher! T-this was attraction. You don’t really have feelings for me,” I insisted, ignoring the astonished irritation in his eyes.

              “That’s bullshit. I know what I feel. Don’t pretend that you don’t feel this, Ivy. Because if you don’t…I’ll just have to keep trying until you do,” he said, a smirk forming on his lips at the challenge.

              And honestly?

              I believed him.

    Chapter

Twenty-Four

Extraterrestrials in the Hall Closet

On Sunday, I drove over to Dana’s house for some much-needed advice. Her Dad let me in, giving me a warm hug.

              “Ivy! You’ve gotten so big! I feel old,” he frowned. I laughed. The man had seen me last week. Dana’s Dad was my favorite adult. He was easy-going and considerate. My parents tended to have a coronary at the smallest things.

              “You’re still looking mighty dapper, though,” I winked, and he chuckled, ruffling my hair.

              “Why are you best friends with my daughter, again? I’m a much better candidate,” he stated with mock seriousness.

              “Dad, are you bugging Ivy again? Go make your own friends and stop trying to snatch mine, old man,” Dana groaned, but her tone was affectionate.

              He answered as Dana grabbed my arm and began to drag me up her stairs. “Don’t be bitter because your friends like me better!”

              Dana rolled her eyes as she closed her bedroom door behind us. “Sorry about that, he keeps getting into the Hershey’s stash and he temporarily becomes a teenage girl.”

              Giggling, I settled back on Dana’s bed and watched as she puttered around her room. She’d never admit it, but she was secretly a complete neat freak. It got to the point where she’d organized mine and Caleb’s lockers after calling us “filthy cavepeople.”

              “So what’s up? You were pretty insistent about coming over today, not like I was going to say no or anything,” she commented, flopping onto the bed at my feet.

              “Remember how I ditched Friday?” I started nervously. How would Dana react? She was always so hot and cold when it came to Asher, I couldn’t predict her response.

              “Yeah, could’ve let us know, we freaked when you didn’t show up to the bench after school,” she reprimanded, yawning.

              “Um…I was at my old dance studio with Asher,” I said, watching her closely. “He took me there as a surprise.”

              She sat up, really paying attention now. “That was…sweet of him,” she stated.

              “Yeah. We were, uh, dancing, and he…” I stopped.

              She prodded me. “Go on.”

              Swallowing hard, I smiled hesitantly at her. “He kissed me.”

              Dana’s mouth flapped open, and her chocolate eyes widened. “Are you seriously serious right now?” she demanded.

              “Yes.”

              “OH MY GOSH ASHER GRAYSON KISSED YOU!”

              Phew. I guess it was pro-Asher Dana today. I giggled at her giddy expression. “Mhmm.”

              “HOW WAS IT?!”

              I wiggled a finger in my ear. “Keep it down, megaphone.”

              Rolling my eyes at her, I sat up. My fingers rose to my lips as I remembered the kiss. “It was…unbelievable. Asher doesn’t just kiss with his mouth, he uses his entire body. It was like every inch of me was on fire,” I recalled dreamily.

              Dana fanned a hand in front of her face. “Ovaries equals KABOOM.”

              “But Dana, he’s like a serial womanizer. And I already like him too much. If I’m
with
him, and he hurts me…I don’t know if I can handle it,” I confessed, wrapping my arms around my knees.

              Dana’s eyes became alert as they narrowed. “What do you mean, hurt you?”

              “No, not like that! I trust Asher,” I corrected, and then with a pang of guilt, I remembered that I still hadn’t told her about Jared.

             
It’s now or never.

              “Dana, there’s something I have to tell you,” I started, feeling my palms start to sweat. I liked to think I was in a state of denial, and it was bliss. Telling Dana would risk it, but not telling would risk
her.

              “What could beat that?” Dana queried, still sitting Indian style across from me on the couch.

              I met her eyes. “Jared is out.”

              She froze. A minute later, she croaked, “What?”

              I squeezed her hand. “They ruled him mentally sound and released him. I don’t doubt that his parents probably oiled a few gears, but he’s out.”

              “Oh God, Ivy,” she whispered. “What are we going to do?”

              “Why does everyone seem to think he’ll come after me? Maybe he really is mentally sound. He wouldn’t come near me. They’d throw him straight into jail this time,” I mused. A somber air had fallen over the room, and I didn’t know how to dispel it.

              “You have always underestimated his complete
obsession
with you, Ivy. You should know better by now! There is no way in hell he’s out and isn’t planning on coming back for you.”

              I buried my face in my arms. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

              Dana smoothed her hand over my hair. “Then we won’t. But remember, Ives; Jared Kale only wants one thing in this world.”

              Her eyes were faraway and disturbed.

              “To consume you.”

              “Someone’s getting killed,” Spencer sang as I entered.

              “Ooh, let me know who does the deed so I can send them flowers,” I replied sarcastically.

              Spencer gave a manic little giggle that was completely unsettling. “Mommy’s on the warpath,” he confided before scurrying into the hall closet Mom never cleans with a flashlight and a few magazines.

              Oh no. Momzilla was on the loose. She left blood, destruction, and dirty dishes in her wake. I saw Dad cowering behind his newspaper, eyes darting back and forth in search of Momzilla.

              “WHO LEFT JODI OUTSIDE HER CRIB?” came the booming voice that would send chills into the human-sacrificing Aztecs.

              “It was Spencer!”

              “It was Ivy!”

              “It was the kids!”

              The traitors! Mom leveled her soul-sucking glare at me as she stomped down the stairs. “You left Jodi outside her crib, Ivy? Do you know she can crawl to the stairs? Or to Spencer’s room and get crushed with those weights he never uses?”

              A muffled “Hey!” from the closet make me snicker.

              “This isn’t a laughing matter, young lady! Do you understand the consequences of irresponsibility like that?”

              She continued her spiel. I could have probably told her I’d been with Dana all day, but when Mom began a rant, you let her finish.

              “I don’t want to see any more carelessness from you, understood?” she checked.

              “Of course, Mom,” I replied dutifully.

              “We’re going to the Peyton’s tonight for supper, get dressed,” Mom commanded, walking past me.

              “B-but I can’t! I’ve got tons of homework to finish,” I said, making excuses rapidly. “And I need a full night of sleep Sunday to carry me through the week and you guys always stay late at the Peyton’s.”

              Mom wavered. The only excuse that could fly with her was anything related to school. She was nerd to the core. “Fine, but if I find out you weren’t doing homework…” she warned.

              “I’ll do it, promise!” I said.

              “There’s lasagna in the fridge, microwave it with some chicken strips,” she instructed, before strolling over to the hall closet and yanking the door open. Spencer tumbled to the ground, smacking his forehead on the carpet.

              “Ouch! Son of a b-” Spencer stopped, and gulped up at Mom. It was kind of funny, how a six foot something, bulky man was cowering at the feet of my tiny Mom.

              “-banana. Son of a banana,” he finished awkwardly.

              Mom smacked him upside the head. “Stop hiding there, you wimp. I heard you scream that one time you found a spider, I know it’s you’re ‘escape cave’.

              “I didn’t scream,” Spencer refuted, standing and trying to dust himself off with some dignity. “I made a manly grunt of surprise.”

              “Uh-huh,” Mom rolled her eyes and walked to the living room, with a nagging Spencer at her heels, insisting that the spider was some sort of spy who had forced him to scream by exposing the secrets of the spider underworld.

My family needed its own channel.

I perched next to my Dad on the kitchen counter, snatching a few of the almonds he was eating. “Hey, Pops.”

Dad removed the plate of almonds from my reach. “You have my money, my free time, my youth, my hairline, and the remote. At least leave me my almonds,” he said dramatically, imitating a funny scene from a movie we’d watched together.

              “They’re just almonds.”

              “They’re extraterrestrial almonds of nutty goodness, you mean!”

              Mom, Dad, and a reluctant Spencer left for the Peyton’s, and I relished the peaceful quiet of the house. Collapsing into my bed, I kicked off my shoes and stared at the ceiling.

              What was I going to do with Asher?

              “Ugh,” I groaned aloud, burying my nose in the pillow. Why was this so complicated? Half of me wanted to find him and let him have his wicked way with me. I mean, start with the superficial aspects, like how drop- dead gorgeous he was, with his piercing deep blue eyes, waves of tussled midnight hair, and lean muscle.

              And he hadn’t done a single thing to make me question his motives, even when we’d first met and he was on jerk-a-tron mode.

              He was such a great kisser, too.

              As if on cue, my phone rang. I flipped it open without checking the caller Id. “Hello?”

              “I could practically hear your thoughts from over here,” Asher’s deep timbre vibrated across the phone.

              I turned scarlet and wondered if he really could hear my thoughts.

              “So you know the answer to number 59 of the Physics homework?” I bluffed.

              “Radical thirty seven over two.”

              Damn it, never have a battle of the brains with a verified Einstein.

              “Whatever,” I mumbled, hearing him laugh across the line.

              “Why have you been avoiding my calls, Ivy?” there was no playfulness in his voice now. “Is it about what happened at the dance studio?”

              I sighed, scrubbing my hand over my face. Oh, why even bother lying, he wasn’t stupid. “Yeah. I just need some time, is all.”

              A creaking noise distracted me from his reply. I sat up, alert. “Ivy?” Asher said. “Are you listening to me?”

              “Wait,” I murmured as I heard another creak. “I think there’s someone in my house.”

              “
What?
I’m getting in my car now, just stay on the line with me.” I heard crashing noises on the other end of the line, which I assumed was him crashing into everything in his hurry to leave.

              I grabbed a heavy bat from Spencer’s room and padded down the stairs noiselessly, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I stuck my head in the hall closet.