Chapter Nine
Ryder
I nearly tripped over my feet when I spotted Lindsay in the middle of the floor, one hand up in the air as she swayed her hips and swung her dark hair around.
I’d never seen her look so uninhibited. My heart gave a hard thump as I took in her curves and the smile stretched across those full lips.
Whitney, Lyla, and Megan danced next to her, all of them a bit flushed, either from exertion or alcohol, or most likely a mix of both. The girls bumped against each other as they executed their sexy moves, attracting the attention of several guys in the room.
Beside me, Hudson, Dane, and Beck froze, leading me to believe they’d noticed the girls as well. Judging by the expressions that ranged from intent-to-harm to murderous, they also saw all the ogling going on.
“So glad Coach held us back to rip us a new one on the night our girls decide to put on a show for everyone at the Quad.” Hudson scowled around the room, his hands curling into fists. “I’m not liking the way several of our teammates are staring. Guess I’ll be doing some ripping of my own.”
Beck ran a hand over his face. “I swear my little sister is trying to kill me. Lyla, too. Why’d I think it’d be a good idea for them to spend time together?”
“I got it,” Dane said, moving toward Megan.
Within seconds the guys flanked the girls, marking their territory. Before I reached Lindsay, one of the onlookers stepped up behind her and gripped her hips. Heat fired through my veins, my teammates’ jealous expressions no longer striking me as amusing. I knew I had no claim on her, but I also knew that if he didn’t remove his hands, I was going to do the honors for him.
She glanced over her shoulder at him and frowned. “I don’t do that anymore.”
I wasn’t sure what that was, but before things could go any further, I approached and held out my hand, fighting the urge to grab her and pull her to me. Last time she’d fled the Quad because I’d smiled at her, so I didn’t want to scare her off with some possessive caveman display, even though it took every ounce of my self-control to hold myself in check. “How about you come dance with me for a bit?”
“Oh, look, it’s my hot math tutor.” She took a step closer to me and stage whispered, “I’m ignoring the fact that you play hockey. It makes me feel better about calling you hot.”
I bit back a laugh and shot random dude a glare that made him back up. Smart guy.
Lindsay slapped her palm in my extended one, and I pulled her to me and slipped my arms around her waist.
“Having fun?” I asked.
She nodded. “Oh, yes. I drank way more than I should’ve. And dancing is more fun than I remembered, too. This is all Whitney’s fault, really.” As Lindsay looped her arms around my neck, I made a mental note to thank Whitney later.
I risked reaching up and brushing Lindsay’s hair out of her eyes, and she sighed, the sound reverberating through my chest and making me feel lighter. We won tonight, which would’ve felt great if afterward Coach hadn’t told us to wipe the smiles off our faces, because if we played like that during playoffs, we’d find our season cut short.
Then he’d taken it a step further, asking the starters into his office so he could tell us he especially expected more of us, and unless we wanted our asses to be glued to the benches, we better give it to him.
I could tell Dane had been about to make a crack about it, and I stepped on his foot at the same time Hudson shook his head at him. Luckily we’d convinced him to keep whatever joke to himself or we would probably still be in Coach’s office. Maybe even on the ice running drills.
“So, how was the game?” Lindsay asked.
I peered into her big brown eyes—they weren’t as focused as usual, more unguarded. But I worried the wrong words would still erect barriers, and I didn’t want to lose this more uninhibited version of her. “For tonight, how about I’m just your math tutor?”
The corner of her mouth twisted up. “You’re going to teach me math on the dance floor?”
“Sure.” I drew her closer, until her body was flush with mine, took a step and whispered, “One, two…” Another step. “Three.” I grabbed her hand, spun her in a circle, and dipped her.
She gripped my biceps with her free hand and tipped her head all the way back, her hair nearly brushing the floor. She laughed, full out, and when I pulled her into my arms, the impact of her unguarded smile kicked me in the gut. “That’s not math. That’s just counting, and even as drunk as I am, I know how to do that. Those dance moves on the other hand…” Her hands drifted up my arms and rested on my shoulders. “Where’d a guy like you learn those?”
The truth involved being “prepped” for political events that I hated, but I didn’t want to get into how my mom used me as her golden boy prop to help advance her campaign. Instead I used the hand on Lindsay’s back to press her tighter against me, soaking in her warmth and curves. “I like your laugh. Your smile, too.”
She reached up and touched the pads of her fingertips to my lips. My breath caught in my throat as a zing shot from her touch to the center of my chest. “I like your smile, too.”
A crease formed between her eyebrows. “But I’m not supposed to be telling you that. I probably shouldn’t be dancing with you, either.”
“Is that right?” I slid my thumb underneath the hem of her shirt, stroking the spot where I’d seen ink that first night I’d tutored her in the math lab. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
She dazedly shook her head. “I had a plan. But it’s a bit fuzzy—I used to be able to drink that much vodka, but now, not so much. I know I was supposed to be looking for…someone. Someone else whose smile I don’t like as much.”
“That sounds like a shitty plan, one that would make me have to hurt that someone else.” I splayed my hand on her back and pressed her closer, working to repress the overwhelming possessive streak that took hold for the second time tonight. “Better stick to dancing with me.”
“No, but look, I had really good reasons…” She blinked and seemed to lose track of what she’d been saying. “But whenever I’m with you, my thoughts crash into each other and how am I supposed to think straight when I can feel your hard muscles pressed up against me?”
That confession encouraged me to eradicate every last inch of space, and between the feel of her curves and the way her breath hitched, my muscles weren’t the only thing that was hard.
The music stopped, and it was the first time in my life I was sad for a dance to come to an end. As much as I hated those stuffy political events I’d had to endure, any moves I could use to sway Lindsay into staying in my arms were a win. If my mother wouldn’t gloat and use that info to guilt me into attending more events, I’d text her to say thanks.
Lindsay’s lower lip stuck out. “You look…not exactly sad. But serious. Which I used to think you were, but now I know better.”
“I’m glad you came,” I said, quickly sidestepping that line of conversation. I thought I had a better poker face.
“Well, I’m not sure what you promised Whitney, but she was adamant. I think she might even be better at blocking flee attempts than you are.” Lindsay poked me in the chest. Then she did it again, her eyes widening. “Rock solid. Damn.”
“It’s all that math,” I said, and she laughed. I guided her off the dance floor, over to where the rest of the guys and their girls stood.
“Who’s up for a game of darts?” Megan asked.
Dane wrapped his arms around her waist. “Don’t fall for it. It’s a trap. She totally throws darts at your head, impairing your ability to keep up.”
“Don’t make excuses just because you can’t beat me.”
Usually I thought they were over-the-top mushy, but with Lindsay by my side, everything looked shinier. All rainbow-colored and shit.
“I’ll play,” Lindsay said. “One of the guys my mom and I lived with had a dartboard, and I had no friends, so I got really good.” She frowned. “That makes me sound sad, I know, but…” Clearly she didn’t like she’d even hinted at any vulnerability, but before I could fully process the minor glimpse into her past and figure out something to say to make it better, she quickly added, “Let’s just go play.”
Whitney and Hudson shared a look and Lyla’s and Beck’s mirrored theirs. They were about to bolt and take advantage of empty apartments.
Whitney glanced at Lindsay, who was already trailing after Dane and Megan.
“I’ll keep an eye on the girls,” I said. “Dane, too.”
“Lindsay?” Whitney called, and she spun around. “If I leave, are you okay? With Ryder and Megan and Dane?”
Lindsay’s gaze skipped from Whitney to me, and then she shot me a smile. “I think you should be asking if Ryder’s safe with me. And the answer is, probably not.” She added a wink and I forgot how to swallow.
Holy shit, this must be my lucky night.