The Rivalry

He excused himself to get another beer and grab me a drink, and while he was gone, Marcy and Dave took to the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife. They were a picture-perfect bride and groom, smiling and laughing as they rotated in a circle and the photographer’s flash went off. Standing at the edge of the dance floor, Marcy’s mom wore a faint scowl and had her gaze glued to her daughter’s veil.

Which may have been tilted slightly more to one side than the other.

I shook my head to myself. I knew Marcy well enough to know she wasn’t going to care about anything but being with her new husband. That was Marcy’s version of perfect, and I was grateful her mom hadn’t charged the floor to correct the issue mid-first dance.

Jay’s large shape drew my attention. He approached the table, a new bottle of beer in one hand, my drink in the other, and a casual smile on his face. He looked relaxed in his tuxedo, and unaware of the glances he drew from the other tables.

The slow love song pouring out of the speakers ended just as he reached his seat.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the deejay announced. “Marcy and Dave would like their bridal party to join them for this second dance.”

My heartrate ticked up a notch. Jay set his beer down and his gaze lingered on me. I felt it like a blast of heat, warming me all the way down to my toes.

“Let’s do this.” He cast a hand to the dance floor which was filling with the monstrous bridal party.

I was so short, and he was a giant. I gave him a skeptical look.

He nodded, as if understanding my hesitation. “Yeah, we’re going to look awesome. C’mon.” His hand swung from the dance floor to me, extended in an offer. I took it. His roughly calloused hand gently tugged me to my feet.

The music was slow and sultry. I let him lead me onto the hardwood floor, and when he reached a clear space, he turned to face me. Breath constricted in my lungs. His arms slipped around my waist, and mine moved without my permission. My fingers laced together behind his neck, and since it was such a long way up, I had no choice but to press tight against him.

Not that I was complaining.

-4-

JAY

Kayla’s waist was tiny. I could span both of my hands around it and probably get my fingertips to touch. I did have large hands, though. A definite advantage on the field.

We shuffled along in a circle, swaying to some love song that was usually too whiney to bear. Only, it wasn’t tonight. The song wasn’t nails on a chalkboard. Instead, it sounded sort of . . . sexy.

I wasn’t an idiot. The girl in my arms had a lot to do with it. I’d looked real smooth earlier when I’d almost dropped and broken her phone. Kayla’s effect on me was powerful.

Her asking me for my number had been awesome. I got hit on all the time, but the number those girls were interested in was the one on my jersey. When was the last time I’d been into a girl who didn’t know who I was? Sophomore year?

Kayla smelled nice, like coconut mixed with something sweet and citrusy. Her warm fingers on the back of my neck felt good. Shit, having my hands on her felt good, too, and her tight body pressed against mine was even better. She seemed nervous, though, because her shoulders were tense. I didn’t want it to be awkward for her, and I sure as hell didn’t want her to step away.

I took one of my hands off her waist, set it on my neck, and began to massage.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered.

I loaded my voice with a joking tone. “My neck has this awful crick in it from looking down at you.”

It took her a second to catch on, but she looked willing to play along. “You think I like staring at your cummerbund? It’s practically at eye-level for me.”

My hand returned to the small of her back, and she melted a little. Got close enough I could feel the deep breath she took as my fingers traced tiny patterns over her spine. I wanted to know what she’d taste like if I kissed her. If I bent down, covered her mouth with mine, and slid my tongue against hers.

Before this night was over, I was going to make that happen.

I craned my neck down so my lips weren’t too far from her ear. “What do you do for fun?”

“I’m really into . . .” She made a face of displeasure, and I’d swear she was looking right at the bride. Marcy and Dave had rotated close to us on the dance floor. There was that strange look again, only this time it was from both newlyweds. Why did they look at us like we were an abomination?