The Bad Boy's Dance (29 page)

              I pressed my back against his chest before shimmying down, my hands trailing above me. Asher’s breath caught, and he pulled me up, tightening his grip on my waist. Electricity shot between us, the magnetic pull I’d felt from the very first time I’d danced with him. Asher spun me away before drawing me in to his chest. I hitched my knees on his waist and clutched his strong shoulders as he lowered me to the ground, far enough that my hair brushed the ground.

              A small circle of people were watching. It grew as we danced, and cheers erupted when Asher flipped me over his arm, with darts of electricity, whirling, and moves I hadn’t pulled since my last major dance competition years ago.

              By the time we realized we had an audience, my skin was heated and slick with sweat, as was Asher’s, although on him it looked downright tantalizing. They applauded and whooped. Asher placed his hands on my hips from behind me and lifted me in the air, to a barrage of cheers and wolf-whistles. I squealed, kicking until he set me down again.

              We danced for a long time. When I glanced at the large clock hanging over the DJ’s stand, I nearly had an aneurysm. It was almost
two
in the morning!

              “My parents are going to kill me!” I screeched, running like a bat out of hell towards the exit. Asher cursed and ran after me, grabbing the purse I’d left behind. I managed to wave at Wes and Adrian on my way out.

              I heard them chuckle as Asher ran after me. “Asher Grayson, chasing a girl and holding her purse?” Wes gasped in disbelief.

              “It’s Armageddon!” Adrian yowled.

              I glanced back to see Asher flip them off and unlock the car at the same time. Jumping into the passenger seat, I refrained from going through the roof. Asher climbed in a second later, panting. “Way to give a guy a warning,” he grumbled, starting the engine.

              “My Mom is going to suck out my soul,” I groaned, drumming my head on the window. “She’ll mash my insides in a food processor and feed them to Jodi.”

              “It’s Saturday night,” Asher reminded me. “Tell her you you’re staying over at Dana’s.”

              Asher obviously wasn’t acquainted with my dear Momzilla. He’d only met the friendly, ‘we have a guest’ version of her. “No, it was my excuse last time, and besides, I was at Dana’s earlier today. She won’t buy it.”

              After a few minutes, he shrugged and flicked on the radio. Music blasted, and he grinned. “Then you might as well enjoy yourself before the slaughter.”

              When he parked in front of my house, I had to dissuade him from coming inside. “It’ll only make it worse,” I insisted. “I’m out till two in the morning, and you’re a guy. Not a good combination.”

              Asher leaned against the car, the wind ruffling the dark locks of his hair around his head. He stretched, giving me a nice view of his muscles unlocking and the flat contours of his abs.

             
Quick, wipe the drool!

             
“Why don’t you tell them about Jared?” Asher queried, his full lips twisting into a scowl at the mention of my exes name, like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

              I rubbed my hands over my arms, a chill sweeping over my body. Jared’s promise was like an icy finger trickling down my spine.

             
“I have to make sure whatever it was that made you turn against me dies. I’ll kill it so that we can survive.”

             
“Because when they found out what Jared had done to me, they were devastated. It took us months of therapy to recover. I refuse to do that to them again.”

              Asher looked like he had more to say on the subject, so I started retreating. “Thank you for tonight,” I told him. “You have no idea how much I needed it.”

              Asher shook his head at my obvious subject change, but a small smile lifted his soft lips. “Anytime, angel.”

              Before I lost my nerve, I ran forward, pressed my lips to his cheek, and scurried into my house. Peeking past the curtain, I watched a grin overtake his face as he slid into the car and drove off.

              The sound of footsteps broke me from my happy haze. Mom stood at the bottom of the stairs, her robe tight around her narrow waist and an expression to terrify the toughest of men. Behind her, Dad was trying to appear stern, but with his constant
yawning, it was obvious he just wanted to go back to bed.

              After getting grounded for oh, say, the rest of my natural life, I was finally allowed to trudge to my room. I flipped the light switch on and closed the door. Blearily, I tried to locate the zipper on my dress.

              “Please, don’t stop on my account,” Trevor Garibaldi said from my desk chair.

              I muffled my scream in time. I checked that my door was locked and whirled to the gun-happy loan shark. “How-what-you-How did you get in here? What are you doing here?” I demanded in a furious whisper.

              Trevor regarded me with interest. “I assume you’re aware of what happened to the Grayson boy a week ago, correct?”

             
You mean when he showed up on my doorstep with stab wounds, bleeding out on my couch?

              No, I forgot.

              “Yes,” I hissed. “Derevko’s men were the ones who did it. What does it have to do with you?”

              Trevor smiled, like I’d affirmed something in his mind. It was plain creepy, seeing a middle-aged bald men sitting in my bedroom. Not helping was the fact that I was pretty sure he had a gun with him he wouldn’t hesitate to use.

              “Tell me, if there was a way you could protect Asher from being harmed, or killed by any of the people after him-including me, although my means differ greatly from Derevko’s- would you take it?”

              My mouth dropped. “Of course I would!” After everything he’d done for me? I’d do just about anything to make sure I never had to see Asher in that terrible condition, or God forbid…dead.

              Shuddering, I met the predatory eyes of Trevor Garibaldi. He smiled widely, showing cigar stained teeth.

              “I think I have a deal you will be unable to resist.”

    Chapter Twenty-Six

            
 
Throw Down in Hoe Town

I crashed into Dana’s mailbox again.

              “Ivy!” Caleb yelled, clutching his seatbelt. “Watch where you’re going!”

              It was my shift for pick-ups and drop-offs to and from school. Unfortunately, I’d been too distracted to notice Dana’s white mailbox next to the curb.

              Dana stormed towards the car and righted the leaning mailbox. She climbed into the backseat with an exasperated sigh. “You do remember my Dad is a cop, right?”

              I stuck my tongue out.

              Finding a parking space was a trial, per usual. Was the architect drunk when he designed this lot?

              Caleb and Dana threw themselves from the car. “Come on you guys, it wasn’t
that
bad,” I whined, locking the car as we walked into the school building.

              “You almost ran over a two-year old on their bike!” Caleb exclaimed.

              “What was she doing in the middle of the street?”

              My best friends exchanged a ‘she’s eaten too much moon cheese’ look. I opened my mouth to call them out, but I was distracted by something else.

              Or should I say, some
one
else.

              Asher was fishing for something in his locker, and gathered around him was a whole gaggle of girls. I’d seen them around him multiple times before, but this time I wasn’t prepared for the undiluted surge of jealousy shooting through my chest. Caleb didn’t notice my preoccupation, but Dana did. She shot Asher an annoyed look before patting my shoulder.

              “Ignore the dude,” she advised. “I’ve got to run to history, but text me or Caleb if you someone needs an ass-kicking. Caleb owns a wicked pair of cleats.”
              They headed to their classes with another wave in my direction. I opened my locker and ruffled through it in search of my Bio book. Mrs. Peters already hated me with a fiery passion, but she’d inject rabies into my blood stream if I dared forget my Bio book on Unit Review day.

              I happened to glance at Asher-who am I kidding I’d been discreetly staring for the past ten minutes- just as he looked up from his fan club. A breathtaking smile spread over his face, and I felt my heart stutter. I blinked and shook my head, grabbing my Bio book (which was hiding behind last week’s trash) and shutting my locker.

              This was bad. If my depth of emotion for Asher was deep enough that seeing him around other girls made me want to hurl….

              A hand caught my elbow firmly. “Hello to you too.”

              I refused to turn around. It was too easy for Asher to read my like an elementary school picture book, and I was
not
going to have this conversation in the hormonal halls of Darwin High. “Can’t talk. Gonna be late.”

              Seeing I wouldn’t budge, Asher walked in front of me. He crossed his arms over his chest and glowered down at me. “Bull. You’re doing that thing again.”

              “What thing?” I frowned, forgetting I was supposed to be leaving for Bio for a reason.

              “The thing where you avoid a touchy subject by running. What’s got you in a tizzy this time?” Asher queried, leaning against the lockers. Was he aware of the effect he was having on every red-blooded female within sight? He was wearing dark washed jeans with a blue V-neck that hinted at the defined abs I knew lurked under there. The tousled strands of his dark hair brushed the collar of his leather jacket, and the small smile playing at the corner of his full lips was hypnotizing.

              I wanted to lock him in a closet with a sign reading, “MINE BIATCHES!”

              “Why don’t you go ask your little fan club? Do they do tricks too? Roll over Trisha!” I snapped, once again trying to move past him. He extended an arm lazily, blocking my way. His cobalt eyes narrowed on my face.

              “What?” The bastard had the audacity to sound genuinely confused.

              “Doesn’t it bother you at all, that they’re so willing to throw themselves at you? But I forget who I’m talking to, Mr. Sexy Bad Boy. All the ladies love you. At this point it occurred to me how much this rambling revealed.

              He
chuckled.
Asher mother-frickin’
chuckled.

              “Are you jealous?” he wondered aloud, grinning.

              I glared at him. “Please, don’t remove your head from your ass on my account.”

              He opened his mouth to reply, probably needle me some more about this supposed ‘jealousy’, but we were interrupted. “Ivy, there you are! Come on, we’re going to be late to Bio. You don’t need Peters to hate you any more.”

              Kyle came to stop in front of me, and his jaw unhinged slightly when he saw who I was talking to, but he quickly resumed his composure. “Hey, man,” he greeted awkwardly before redirecting his attention to me. “Ready to go?”

              If looks could kill, Kyle would be over a grill in a zoo somewhere, being fed to a den of hungry lions. Asher righted himself and fixed a blank look on his face I hadn’t seen for a while.

              “You can run along, I’ve got it,” he drawled. “Peters won’t mark her late if she’s with me.”

              Kyle laughed, completely missing the hostility emanating from Asher. Sometimes, Kyle’s surfer boy attitude meant he was as unassuming as a box of crackers. “Dude, you’re seriously underestimating Petrie Peter’s hatred for Ives. She’d slam her with detention even if the president personally emailed her.”

              At this point, Kyle loosely grabbed my wrist, but before he could lead me away, Asher stepped into his path, and he’d dropped the blank expression in favor of a menacing, slightly homicidal one.

              Uh-oh.

              “Well,
dude
, I can handle Petrie Peters. Leave.
Ives
isn’t your concern,” Asher bit out, and I could have sworn his hand twitched towards his calf, where I knew he’d strapped a gun.

              I stepped between them, wrangling my wrist from Kyle’s hand. I poked Asher in the chest until he redirected his gaze to me. He softened instantly, but I was too annoyed to note it. “Stop it,” I ground. “You’re going to make a scene. He’s walking me to class, not seducing me in a dark alleyway.”

              We had a stare-off for a few minutes. “Jealous?” I chuckled purposely. His frown deepened, and with another poisonous glare of warning at Kyle, he stalked off.