First he pulls me close to his chest, our hips meeting. He eases us into a steady beat, his mouth close to my ear. He whispers the words of the song, his breath sending chills down my spine. When he starts to move, I’m mesmerized, and against all logic he has me following his lead. Sure, I’m sloppy and twice I step on his feet, but I manage to get through the song not feeling like a complete fool.
“Who taught you this?” I ask and come in from a spin, crashing into this chest. He steadies me but keeps swaying.
“My mom and Sugar. When we were little, they’d pair us up with the girls and show all the steps.”
A shadow blocks the light from the jukebox. I look over and Justin holds out his hand. “Can I cut in?”
I nod and Pete gives my hand to him and suddenly I’m in a different set of arms with my cheek pressed against his soft, cotton shirt. I feel the heat rolling off his body and I peer at his face.
“Was this all planned? Getting me on the dance floor?”
He smiles—more a smirk than grin. “What? You think we?
??d come up with a reason to legitimately put our hands all over you in public?”
“That actually sounds suspiciously exactly like something you would do.”
He spins me around and catches me back gracefully. My heart thrums a little harder at how sexy he is. “To be fair, it wasn’t my idea.”
“No? You’re more skate parks and greasy hamburgers?”
He laughs. “Exactly.”
“Then who?”
His eyes flick to the side, where Whit’s leaning against the bar. He sips his beer but watches us closely.
“Whit?”
Justin shrugs. “He wanted to do something special for you after taking care of him for all that time.”
“And he couldn’t just say that?”
“It’s hard for him to share his emotions, Summer. His dad is a hardass. Feelings are for the weak.” He looks down at me. “This is a big gesture for him.”
“I’ve noticed he’s not around much lately—is that what it’s about?”
He nods. “I think so. I know he’s surfing a lot and just spending time down at the beach. Just kind of reconnecting, I guess.”
I feel the heat of Whit watching me even after Justin’s given my hand to Nick. My football-playing boyfriend is surprisingly agile on his feet, which I guess makes sense with his athleticism. By this point we’ve caught the attention of other patrons, the fact that these boys, these local boys whose reputations they know, continue to dance with me—one girl—song after song.
I’m still mixing up my steps and Nick has stopped to give me a quick instruction when we’re interrupted.
“How ‘bout I show you how it’s really done, sweetheart,” a guy with short, blond hair says with a coy smile. He’s a little older, face tanned from too many days on the beach. His size rivals Nick’s.
“Back off, Brent,” Nick says, quickly. Obviously, they know one another.
“I didn’t ask you, asshole.” He flashes another smile at me. “You’ve made the rounds with every guy here. Why not take a spin with me?”
“Brent—”
I squeeze Nick’s hand. “Sorry, but I’m busy.”
“I know who you are,” he says in a slurry way that makes it clear he’s had too much to drink. “You’re the new girl that’s been seen all over with these guys. Look babe, if you want to slum it with the locals, I can show you a good time.”
His voice is loud enough to get the attention of people around us—including the boys I came with. Justin sets the pool stick on the table and walks in our direction. Pete’s already at my side. Bobby tells Anita to sit this one out as he follows Whit over from the bar.
Before they can stir up trouble in the name of my defense, I step between Brent and Nick.