Touch (Denazen #1)(27)
The room was loud. Surely I’d heard him wrong. “You did not seriously ask me to dance with you.”
He slid out from his chair and stood. The sleeve of his dark T-shirt rode up to reveal a tiny glimpse of the tattoo hiding beneath. The Chinese symbol for freedom. I remember asking him why freedom. He’d told me he liked the symbol. Another thing he’d lied to me about. “It’s just a dance, what harm could it do?”
I thought about it. The music pumped and the air was electric. On the floor, bodies swayed and convulsed, lost to the beat. Would it hurt to have a few minutes of normalcy? I thought back to the way our bodies moved together. Even after all this time, the memory brought a flush to my skin and a rush of heat racing through my limbs. I slid over and stood, giving him a quick nod. “You’re right, what would one little dance hurt?”
His grin widened. “Zactly.”
“What do you say, Kale? Want to dance your first dance with me?”
Kale looked from me to the dance floor. It was packed, but I’d already scouted a small corner at the edge that was fairly empty. It’d be safe. He must have seen it too, because he smiled and stood. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him grin at Alex, a totally guy smile that said nah-nah-nah-nah-she-picked-me-not-you. We left Alex sitting alone at the table with a sour expression on his face.
My fingers tangled with Kale’s, and I led him to the edge of the dance floor. Leaning close, I whispered, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you know what dancing is, right?”
He didn’t answer. A sly grin spread across his lips and he grabbed both my hands, tugging me close as the slow, rhythmic beats of a new song began. Pulling me in and spinning me out, Kale moved across the floor with skill and confidence. At about six feet tall, he was the perfect height for me. I didn’t have to stand on my tiptoes, but still needed to look up a bit. The music pounded inside my brain, filling up every inch of space, and my eyes…well they focused on nothing other than Kale and the way he moved us around the small space.
His eyes sparkled and hair fluttered into his face, and at that moment, he looked like a normal boy. Fancy twirls and elegant dips, we moved across the floor. For a split second I panicked, sure we were about to collide with someone, but on second glance, I saw the crowd had moved back, forming a wide circle for us. They stood watching, some cheering, some clapping. Kale, taking advantage of the extra room, spun me wildly away from him, feet moving in some complex maneuver, before pulling me back in an extravagant display ending with a deep dip that left me dizzy and disoriented—but tingly.
Very tingly.
The crowd erupted in a chorus of hoots and shouts, and I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. I grabbed his hand and led him off to the side as the crowd reclaimed the dance floor. “That was amazing! Where did you learn to dance like that?”
His eyes stayed on mine, intense and unwavering. He wasn’t frowning, but his expression was one of utmost seriousness. “Was that good?”
I squeezed his hand. “Good? That was…” Then, like someone dimmed the lights, everything drifted away. The music, the crowd, everything disappeared. The only thing that didn’t fade, the only thing that remained behind, was Kale. The sharp curve of his cheek, the angular set of his jaw—complete with nervous twitch—all inches from me now. His lips, pressed in a thin line as he awaited my judgment, looked soft and inviting. How easy would it be to lean forward—just a few inches separated us.
I’d made the decision to go for it when a large hand clamped across my shoulder.
“Crap!” I jumped forward, almost knocking Kale backward into a large man with a mohawk.
“She’s ready to see you now,” Alex said, arms folded. He looked annoyed. Good. I’d mainly danced with Kale to piss him off, but now… Things felt different.
We followed Alex through the crowd and up the stairs leading to the second level. Past another bar and to the right, there was a single door. Alex knocked three times, then twisted the knob. It opened with an ominous creak.
“So Alex tells me you’re looking for our help,” a voice said from across the room. In the corner, seated on a cushy red recliner—the only thing in the room—sat a little old lady. Wrinkled and stooped and totally out of place, she appeared to be your typical grandma, complete with flowery housecoat and bluish hair. But the look in her eyes was far from typical. Something told me Granny could go a few rounds with Dad and not break a sweat.
The door closed behind me. “No, technically, we’re looking for the Reaper.”
The old woman’s eyes narrowed. “Quite the tongue on you, child.”
I smiled and took a bow. “I get that a lot.”
“Dez—”
The woman held out her hand to stop him. “It’s fine, Alex. This one amuses me.”
At the other end of the room was a door with two beefy guys standing stone-faced in front of it. The old woman snapped her fingers twice and the guy on the right disappeared through the door. A few moments later, he reappeared with a plastic cup brimming with red liquid. She took the glass and gave him an offhanded wave as she lifted it to her lips. I had to hold back a giggle at the site of this bruiser scurrying to cater to this old woman. Obviously, she held some serious sway with these people.
“So what are you, like the Granny Don of the Six mafia?”
She cackled, mouth opening to reveal several missing teeth. “Something like that.”