Search Me(45)

“Wanna do a shot with us, Lane?” West asked, refilling his glass.

I opened my mouth to respond, but Maddox silenced me with a snicker. “Dude, you’re so barking up the wrong tree there. Lane doesn’t drink.”

West cocked an eyebrow at me. “You don’t?”

“I do too,” I protested.

Maddox shook his head. “A sip or two of beer, maybe. You know you don’t party.”

“Ah, so she’s really a goody-two shoes?” West asked.

Maddox grinned. “Yep. A total choir-girl priss in toe shoes, no less.”

“Hmm, a ballet dancer. You gotta be pretty flexible for all that!” West said, raising his eyebrows in a slight leer.

Maddox smacked West’s arm and shot him a disgusted look. I snatched the empty shot glass and shoved it in front of West. “Fill it up.”

“Aren’t you a sassy one?” West chuckled. He poured me a shot. “Bottoms up.”

As my lips hovered around the glass, I caught Maddox and West’s intrigued expression. I’m sure at any minute they thought I’d chicken out. Oh yeah, I’d show them. I tipped my head back and swallowed the contents in one fiery gulp. My eyes watered as the tequila rocketed down my throat to burn in my stomach. My cough turned into a pant, and then I smiled sweetly at their shocked faces. “Another.”

“Hot damn, we’ve got us a live one!” West exclaimed.

Maddox put his hand on mine and gave me a warning look. “I think the one was enough.”

West ignored him and filled the shot glass to the brim. “Oh come on, Mad Dog, let the girl cut loose for once. She’s had her head buried in some moldy ass book for hours.” He handed me the shot glass and then picked up his own. “Cheers.”

I didn’t dare look over at Maddox. Instead, I clinked my glass to West’s. “Cheers,” I repeated.

After we threw the shots back, West leaned over and grinned at me. He jerked his head to where a rag-tag band had assembled on the small, wooden stage, “Wanna dance?”

“Sure I—”

“Forget it, man. She’s just nineteen.”

“So?” West countered, with a gleam in his eye.

Maddox shot him a death glare. “Besides the fact that you’re twenty-five? Let’s just say I know you too well.”

“Well, I’ll be twenty tomorrow,” I argued.

“That doesn’t mean shit,” Maddox snarled.

West seemed to be enjoying Maddox’s anger. His eyes twinkled. “I just asked her to dance, Mad Dog.”

“And I want to,” I said, wedging myself between the two of them. The two shots of tequila pumped my system full of liquid courage. Of course, it was Maddox, not West, I wanted to dance with, but he wasn’t biting at the moment.

West grinned down at me. “Since you’re the dancer, I’ll let you lead.”

With a giggle, I took his hand and dragged him over to the dance floor. Our bodies moved frantically to the upbeat song. I would have normally been uptight about making a fool of myself, but after five minutes, the tequila was taking care of any inhibitions I might have had.

“So tell me, Twinkle Toes,” West shouted over the band’s booming bass, “what’s up with you and Maddox and all that research you were doing?”

“It’s nothing really.”

West shook his head. “No, it’s definitely something. Mad Dog doesn’t read, and I sure as hell can’t imagine him studying.”

Once again I found myself giggling like a vapid airhead. Stupid tequila. “You’re right about that one.” I danced a little closer to West. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Maybe you ought to try me.”

“Fine. If you must know, we’re looking for buried treasure.”

“You’re full of shit,” West replied, with a grin.

“No, I’m serious. It’s hidden gold that belonged to this Cherokee Indian princess named Pretty Fawn, and she—”

West gave a contemptuous snort. “Whatever. Be a tease and keep your little secret.”

I was about to argue with him when Maddox tapped on West’s shoulder. “I’m cutting in.” His forceful tone sent my heart pitter-pattering, and I fought to keep the satisfied smirk off my face.

“Sure man.” West twirled me around to where I knocked into Maddox’s chest. Dizzy, my hands fisted his shirt to keep my balance. I quickly shoved away. “She’s all yours.” He winked at me before strolling away.

As other couples danced around us, we stood stock still, staring each other down. “I thought you didn’t dance?” I finally asked.

“I don’t.” He raked his hand through his hair. “But I sure as hell don’t like you dancing with West.”

“Oh really, Mad Dog? After hearing more escapades about your tainted reputation, I’m not sure I should be dancing with you,” I said, poking him in the chest with my finger. “You might try to charm the jeans right off me…again.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Look, I feel bad enough for what I did, and I would never, ever take advantage of you again. But then again you seem to be fine with letting West run his hands all over you.”