The Bad Boy's Dance (28 page)

              “I’ll handle it, okay? You’ve asked me to trust you, it’s your turn. Trust that I’ll take care of this,” I promised.

              He hesitated.

             
Ugh.
I was so sick of this, sick of the drama and the worry. I was graduating high school soon, I was young, and there was a six foot three mouthwatering bad boy in my room.

             
Time to live a little.

             
“Take me to a club,” I decided, turning to face Asher with my hands crossed over my chest. “Please,” I added.

              He gave me a strange look as he rose. “Why?”

              I was getting more excited by the minute. “Because you’re you! You’ve been in clubs before, I know you have. I want to go to one,” I rambled.

              Asher raised a single brow. Ugh, even his eyebrow was sexy. “I’m not sure whether to be offended or worried. And you’re sure this isn’t your way of blocking out the fact that your psycho ex is stalking you?”

              I threw my hands up. “Maybe it is! Who cares? It’s better than the alternative- slowly losing my frickin’ mind. And I have no intention of doing that again. So are you going to take me or not?”

              Asher stared at the ceiling for a minute before heaving a sigh. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered. “Get dressed.”

              The sound I emitted was somewhere between a victory whoop and a canary mating call. Asher told me he would wait downstairs and shut the door behind him.

              He had better not raid my pantry again. How he could look like an Abercrombie model yet eat like a pig was just another of the world’s small injustices, like faulty internet when you finally pick a movie on Netflix. Apparently everyone around me possessed this ability but me.

              Rummaging through my closet, I ignored the nagging voice in the back of my mind that was warning me of what my parents would do when they got home and found out I was gone. Especially my mom, who thought I was doing homework right now.

              After throwing clothes around so it looked like a torpedo went through my closet, I held up the dress Dana bought for my birthday last year. It was form fitting at the top, sleeveless with a flowing skirt at the bottom. It reached to the middle of my thigh and sparkled with gold and black glitter.

              Reaching up, I undid my hair from its bun, letting it flow to the bottom of my spine. I didn’t have time to do anything else, so I grabbed my purse with my phone and wallet and descended the stairs. I was about to close the door when I remembered and ran back in, shoving the clothes in my closet, leaving papers all over my desk (the chaos of my studying), and stuffing a few pillows under the blanket. I switched off the light and left the door ajar.

              Asher looked up when he heard my footsteps. He was, of course, eating my food. “Not bad, only ten minutes-” the rest of his words were lost when he started choking on the food.

              I hurried down, thankful that the dresses skirt allowed for easy movement. After thumping on his back a few times, he managed to choke down whatever it was he was eating.

              “Are you okay? Do you want me to get you some water?” I fussed.

              He stared at me for so long, I started to squirm. Was something wrong with my outfit?

              “You look amazing,” he finally said, making me flush.

              Swallowing the dryness in my throat, I motioned to the door. “We should get going before my parents and brother get home. I know Spencer might not seem like it, but he’ll break your hands if he finds out you’re taking me to a club.”

              It was a miracle that Paul wasn’t here.

              Asher smirked down at me as he opened the door. “He can try.”

              The inside of Asher’s car was sleek and modern. Seeing it without beer goggles on didn’t lessen the effect. I settled into the warm leather, making sure not to scratch anything in the car. It probably cost more than my house.

              “Are you sure about this?” Asher asked. “No offense or anything, but you’re not exactly a party animal. And we
both
know you can’t hold your liquor.”

              My cheeks heated at the reminder of my episode, ending with Asher carrying me to his house and tucking me into bed.

              “Why are you so nice to me?” The question flew out of my mouth before I could stop myself. It was something I’d been wondering for a while. I mean, Asher was wild, uncontrollable, gorgeous, wealthy, and
influential.
People trailed after him like puppies at school and outside of it. He carried multiple weapons ‘just in case’.

              And my idea of daring was waiting till seven to start my homework.

              Asher glanced at me and tapped his finger contemplatively on the steering wheel. The street was dark, with only the headlights illuminating the path.

              For a few minutes, I wondered if Asher was planning on answering my question. I wanted to draw my knees up to my chest in preparation, but I might stain his leather with my flats.

              Asher finally spoke, breaking the tense silence in the car. His voice was thoughtful, almost like he was surprised by this answer. “Because I like you. You’re sweet, loyal, and you don’t take my bullshit. Even the weird little things you do, like your obsession with ‘moon cheese’…they’re adorable. Honestly, it’s kind of scary.”

              Before I could absolutely burst like a hot air balloon, he finished in his typical fashion. “And I want to kiss you again, because
damn
that was awesome.”

              “We’re here,” he nearly shouted as I was trying to maneuver around the seatbelt to punch his shoulder.

              It worked. I was distracted by the flashing neon colors coming from the small oval building. It was teeming with people, scantily dressed and heavily pierced/ tattooed. Two burly bouncers guarded the entrance.

              “Don’t worry, angel,” Asher chuckled, rounding the car to open my door. He wrapped an arm around my waist as we walked to the bouncers, startling me. We were skipping past all the people in line, some of whom complained rather loudly.

              Asher strolled up to the bouncers casually, keeping his arm tight around my waist. They eyed him for a second, and I tensed as I prepared for them to throw us out.

              “Grayson!” the first erupted, reaching forward to yank Asher into some complicated hand-shake. The other thumped his back a few times, grinning. It was kind of awkward, seeing as Asher wouldn’t release me no matter how much I wiggled against his grip.

              “Ivy, this is Wes,” he pointed to the bald bouncer with colorful tattoos on his neck. “And this is Adrian,” who was the one with a thick mustache.

              “Nice to meet you,” I smiled, hoping not to betray my nerves.

              “It’s very nice to meet you, mademoiselle,” Wes said dramatically, picking up my hand and placing a kiss on it before I could react.

              “You’re terribly lovely, dear. What are you doing with our boy Asher?” Adrian joked, laughing at Asher’s pointed glare.

              “Well if you two are done with your mid-life crisis, I’d like to introduce Ivy to our scene,” Asher said. He gestured to the impatient line of partygoers. “And I think you have some business to attend to.”

              They moved aside, and Asher led us through the door. “Have fun,” they called in unison as we entered the club.

              “They didn’t even check for our ID’s or anything,” I mused. The music was booming, bouncing off the walls and shaking the club. Writhing bodies filled the dance floor, and the bartenders moved fast to accommodate the thirst. Asher led us to an empty table where I sat, absorbing the atmosphere.

             
You are
so
in over your head. When was the last time you weren’t too scared to take the trash out at night? Now you think you’ll magically blend into the clubbing scene?

             
Sometimes I really hated my snotty inner voice.              

              “They never check the ID’s of my guests,” Asher answered my earlier question. “Call it a friendly courtesy. Do you want something to drink?
Non- alcoholic,
” he added.

              I nodded, knowing I needed something to squeeze as my skittishness increased. “Stay here,” Asher ordered, and vanished into the crowd.

              That annoyed me a bit. I didn’t break a ton of my parent’s rules to stay put. But I knew if I tried to get up, I’d be lost in a heartbeat, and that scared me more.

              Asher came back with two sodas, but he wasn’t alone. A guy was following him, and the look on his face was disturbing. A mixture of hostility, resentment, and envy aimed at Asher.

              “What do you want, Calvin? I don’t time for you to bitch about how much your life sucks,” Asher said flatly when the guy wouldn’t leave. The two stood, facing each other. Asher was easily the tallest, and I knew he could’ve beat the hotdogs out of the guy without breaking a sweat. So either this guy was stupid, had a death wish, or was really drunk.

              “Why, too busy ruining other people’s lives? You make me
sick,
Grayson. How can you look at yourself, knowing that you’re continuing your scumbag father’s legacy?” Calvin slurred, shaking his fist at Asher.

              Option number three it was: he was really drunk.

              “What happened between you and my father didn’t have anything to do with me,” Asher drawled. He was keeping his cool, but I could tell it annoyed him to have this conversation in front of me. Why? What else was Asher hiding?

              “Look at you. You’re nothing but a criminal, a shame to your mother, and
trash
,” Calvin continued.

              Remember when I mentioned that while I couldn’t defend myself very well, if you screwed with someone I cared about, I’d tear your eyeballs out?

              I’m sure Brenda and my mashed red velvet cupcake remembered.

              I stood beside Asher and crossed my arms over my chest. “Is that all you wanted to say? Because I still don’t see anyone who cares here. The drunken asshole pit is over there,” I snapped, pointing in a random direction.

              Calvin gave me the once-over and leered at me. Asher had grown very still, and I knew he was on the verge of throwing me over his shoulder and stomping away.

              “You know you’re just another lay for him, right? He’ll use you until he finds another pair of legs willing to open for him,” Calvin jeered. “He’s no knight sweetheart. He’s a no good lowlife, just like his father.”

              Oh crap. Asher’s hands had balled into fists. I smacked my hand onto his chest to keep him from lunging at Calvin.

              “You sound jealous. Do you wish you weren’t so disgusting, smelly, and altogether revolting so that maybe someone with a pulse would glance your way?” I asked with mock curiosity. I continued before he could formulate a response. His face had grown red with rage. “Quite honestly, I
still
don’t care. And what you said was very rude,” I finished.

              With that, I slammed my knee into his crotch.

              Calvin released an ear-splitting howl and fell over, curling into the fetal position.

              I leaned down so that I could meet his eyes. “Think twice before you run your mouth. Next time, my knee might be a steel-toed boot, if you know what I mean.”

              I glanced at Asher, who was staring at me, utterly shell-shocked. Shrugging, I picked up my soda and took a long sip. “It’s not like he was going to use them anyway, with those manners.”

              Asher put a hand to his stomach and started guffawing, laughing harder than I’d ever seen. Several people glanced at him, and at one point I worried he was actually having some kind of hemorrhage.  “Are you going to act like a hyena or are you going to dance with me?” I asked, surprising both of us with my forwardness.

              He straightened and took my hand. “How can I say no? Wouldn’t want to end up like him,” he motioned to Calvin, who was still keening pitifully on the floor.

              Letting him lead me to the dance floor, I explained. “I took self-defense classes for two years after I stopped dancing. I’m sure you can guess why. What Calvin is experiencing is lesson number one.”

              Asher studied me thoughtfully. “It seems there are many things I don’t know about you, Miss Robello.”

              I raised my eyebrows. I hadn’t forgotten Asher’s exchange with Calvin. “Right back ‘atcha.”

              Dev’s “Dancing in the Dark” started to play, and we both made a conscious effort to remember our visit here was to have fun. This song was hypnotizing, encouraging me to dance in ways I would be too shy to in different circumstances. Asher was clearly worried about touching me too much, like I’d bolt again.