Diary of a Teenage Jewel Thief(20)

I’m met with smooth, tan skin and deep brown hair framing a hard jawline. Will’s ice-blue eyes burn me with their intensity, and I pray he can’t see me blushing in the dim lighting. “Sorry, you looked like you were going to fall.” The sincerity in his voice matches the innocence in his expression, and I breathe a sigh of relief that it hadn’t been some pervo trying to cop a cheap feel.

I shoot a self-conscious glance over my shoulder at Jamie, but he’s already heading off to another part of the dance floor with a guy I recognize from bio. Will’s hands are still on my arms, and I’m loathe to break the contact.

“Hi,” he mouths. He might have said the word out loud, but the sound is lost to the music.

“Hi,” I return. I’m innately aware of his fingertips on my skin. His thumbs brush a lazy back-and-forth pattern along the edges of my collarbone. We’re probably the only two people on the dance floor not dancing, but I can’t summon an ounce of concern or embarrassment. I’m locked in Will’s gaze, a prisoner to the storm of nervous energy flooding my veins. The song changes, transitioning from fast and danceable to something slower, more sensual. Will’s eyelids lower, and his half-mast gaze dips to my mouth.

When his tongue darts out to wet his lips, I unconsciously mirror the action, and he sucks in a deep breath in response. A little thrill shoots through me at the realization that he’s reacting to me that way because he wants to kiss me. And if I’m honest with myself, I want to kiss him. I can almost feel his lips pressing against mine. Every fiber of my being is caught in his gravitational pull, aching to be near him.

Eventually, he sways to the music, and I follow his lead, mirroring his movements as if I’m an extension of him. He moves his hands down my arms, then presses them to my waist and pulls me so close that every inch of me is almost pressed against every inch of him.

Heat surges through me. I lean into Will, memorizing the feel of his body leveled against mine. The life of a thief is a solitary one; I’ve never been this close to a guy before, and the situation is made all the more complicated by the strength of my attraction to him.

There’s no denying it anymore.

And I won’t let this moment slip away from me without fully experiencing it. Calling on the three years of dance classes I took as a kid, I fall into the rhythm. I don’t think about my moves, letting them flow naturally, and with every shake, every bounce, every step, Will’s hands never leave my hips. His grip tightens, and the fraction of space that was between us disappears. He’s so tall, I barely come up to his chin, and I’m struck by the urge to nuzzle against him. I spin around, turning my back to him to avoid giving in to the desire to bury my face in the crook of his neck.

Will wraps his arms around me, encircling my waist and pulling me back against him, and I lift my hands above my head to allow him the liberty. I close my eyes and sway, undulating, twisting, shifting to the beat. Will’s own dancing is more subdued, like he’s more interested in my movements than his own.

I don’t know what possesses me to do it, but I wrap my hands around his neck and pull his head down so his face is next to mine.

“Having fun?” I practically shout to be heard over the music. I can’t be sure, but I think he growls in response. “Who knew you were such a good dancer?” I tease.

“I never had any doubt that you would be.” His breath tickles my ear as he speaks, causing goose bumps to erupt down my neck.

A boy bumps into us from the side, and I stumble against Will before righting myself. And suddenly every detail of the club comes into sharp focus, like I’m waking from a sweet, sensual dream to a crowded, sweaty reality. I’m suddenly left feeling overly self-conscious, like everyone in the club is watching us. It’s not the private moment I was perceiving it as in my head. People are close, too close. Before coming to New York, before meeting Will, I never would have lost awareness of my surroundings like this. I know better than that. But somehow being around Will makes me forget everything else.

And that scares me.

I scramble to extricate myself from Will’s arms and locate Trin and Lacey, but the faces around me blur together into a crowd of strangers. I race back to the table instead, but it’s not my safe place anymore. A couple of spritely girls dressed in various shades of bubblegum pastels have taken it over.

I veer away from them and head for the door instead. I need to put some space between Will and me anyway. The five blocks from here to my apartment ought to be enough.

The air outside the club is fresher than I realized, and as soon as I’m beyond the entrance, I pause to suck in a lungful of the breezy night.

“Flower, what’s wrong?” Will is somewhere in the space behind me, but I can’t face him right now. The strength of my reaction to him inside Club Grade has me balanced on a razor’s edge. One wrong move, and I’ll fall into oblivion with him. For him. And if I do that, it could put him on Petrov’s radar.

“Nothing, I just gotta get home. My mom will freak if I’m late. See ya later.” I call the words over my shoulder, afraid if I turn and look at him, he’ll see everything I’m feeling in my eyes. I’m too raw to be that vulnerable right now.

“Sure. See ya,” he answers.

I propel myself forward away from him even though every cell in my body aches to stay. I busy myself with texting Trin to let her know I’ve left the club, and I don’t dare look back over my shoulder until I’m almost a block away. When I do, I’m only a little surprised to see Will trailing fifteen or so yards behind. My stomach flips at the sight of him anyway, and I’m quick to face front again, reminding myself that he’s not following me; he lives in this direction, too. Still, for a few moments, at least, I let myself pretend he’s chivalrously trying to see me home safely without invading my comfort zone.