BEAUTIFUL BROKEN MESS (Broken, Series #2)(40)

- Six -



AUDREY -

Pete, or Paul, or was it Parker? Whoever this guy is, he reeks of cologne. My nose is stinging badly, my eyes are about to start watering, and my head’s beginning to pound. The entire dance I’ve been begging for the song to just end already, and now I need to tell him to take a hike. He got his one dance. I also need to find Lane ASAP to figure out why he was talking to Jace.

The guy with a name that starts with P is still holding onto my hands as I’m trying to gently pull back. The upbeat country song we were just dancing to starts to blend into a slow song. Hell. No. I can’t have my face that close to his body or I’ll pass out from the toxic fumes. Why do guys insist on spraying themselves down with this stuff? It’s not a magical pheromone that’s going to have the ladies chasing you.

“Mind if I cut in?” Jace’s voice growls from beside us.

I don’t even have to think twice about his question. Immediately, I extract myself from Mr. Smell Good and grab Jace’s hands. I can hear the guy’s protests, but Jace moves us toward the opposite side of the dance floor. His movements are fluid and easy to follow.

“Whatever reason you have for dancing with me, I don’t even care right now. Thank you for getting me away from him,” I say, smiling up at him.

He places his hand on my waist and pulls me in closer. His nose scrunches up in disgust. “Damn, he should have just pissed all over you instead.”

“Oh no,” I groan into his shoulder, “is it on me?”

With my eyes closed, I feel the tip of his nose run from my temple slowly down to my neck. He’s sniffing me and it feels primal, possessive, and way too sexy. It’s everything I’m attracted to in Jace; his commanding touch mixed with his sweet softness. My nerve endings are on fire at the memory of what his touch can do to my body.

“Don’t, Jace,” I breathe out in a whisper.

“Hmm?” he mumbles, his nose still burrowed in my neck.

It’s difficult to think straight because, unlike my previous partner, Jace smells clean and delectable. Not an ounce of cologne, just soap and aftershave. “Stop, Jace, I’m trying… I just want to get over you,” I stumble out candidly.

The warmth of his breath tickles behind my ear. “I like it better when you’re under me.” I force myself to pull out of his grasp and walk toward the exit. I can’t do this right now. Jace is much too tempting and not healthy for my mental well-being. He grabs my hand and spins me back into his chest. “I’m sorry, I’ll behave.” I place my left hand back on his bicep and my right in his larger hand. We continue dancing in a comfortable silence.

“Who would have thought two kids from Texas would meet back up at a country bar in California?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

He smiles and declares, “I have to admit I was skeptical about this place.”

“Me too.”

As if on cue, the slow song fades. The lights begin to darken and a fast beat begins pumping through the speakers. It’s definitely not country music anymore. It must change over after a certain time. The crowd descends onto the dance floor as if they were waiting for this music all night. A secret they were all clued in on, unlike myself. The temperature rapidly escalates with the drastic increase of body heat.

“And… that’s exactly what I was expecting,” he chuckles into my ear. I reach back and grasp my hair into a handheld ponytail so I can cool down. Jace grabs onto my hips and begins dancing in front of me. I look up into his eyes and he shrugs as if saying, ‘Might as well.’ He spins me around so my back is facing him and then blows cool air across my neck. It feels wonderful and much too intimate at the same time.