“Thank you,” I mouthed to him.
We stood there for a few minutes, and he walked around with me until we found a small, unoccupied table close the bathrooms. We sat there, sipping on our drinks for a couple of songs before I spotted Eli cutting through the mass of bodies on the LED dance floor and heading straight toward us.
He was holding his hands out in front of him, pretty much dangling his tongue out of his mouth while making the dumbest face I'd ever seen—his normal one. To top it off he was shimmying his shoulders.
I was already laughing by the time he made it to the table, and I slid off the seat, knowing it was pointless to fight with him. Turning to Carter, I held my hand out in his direction. “Come on!” I yelled with a big grin.
He shook his head.
“You sure?” I asked still practically screaming.
He gave me a thumbs-up with a smile.
Carter had already mentioned to me that he had an allergy to dancing, so I wasn’t going to force him to do something he didn’t want to. I hated when people did that to me. I gave him an “if you say so” shrug and followed Eli’s big butt out to the floor.
Eliza started tutting—Egyptian-like dance moves—when we stopped in the middle of the floor with “Walk Like an Egyptian” blaring over the speakers. I mirrored his moves, laughing my ass off the entire time. One song turned into four while we danced in front of each other, our moves getting more and more outrageous as the eighties songs kept coming. The half of a drink I had guzzled probably helped.
I couldn't help but wonder why the hell TCC’s record label had brought them to an eighties club, but I didn't care. I loved dancing, but only when I could act like an uninhibited idiot without worrying about everyone judging me. The next thing I knew, Mason booty-bumped me from behind before backing his ass up into my stomach for a few songs.
I pushed Mason out of the way when he started trying to sandwich himself between me and some random brunette on the dance floor. A hand brushed my ass as I wiggled my way through the crowd, and I whacked it away the second it came in contact with me. I'd barely stepped off the floor when I saw Sacha in… oh merciful God. Of all the things in the world he had to wear… He had on suspenders—suspenders!—over a shirt that was somewhere between pink and purple, and slim black jeans. He stood a few feet away facing the dance floor, talking to a shorter man with glasses.
TCC’s singer smiled the second he realized I spotted him and waved me over. The thought of pretending I hadn’t seen him didn’t occur to me. We were friends and friends didn’t ignore each other, I told myself, even as his eyes swept across my frame as I walked toward him. Yeah, I tugged my dress down.
"Gaby," he breathed into my ear when I stopped next to him. His hand reached out to land on the small of my back, and I had to fight the urge to react.
Good lord, was I that starved for attention I was getting excited over having a hand on the small of my back?
Yes. Yes, I was.
"Hi," the smaller man spat out in a shout.
I waved at the stranger and held out my hand to him. "Hi, I'm Gaby."
“Dennis, beautiful!” He shook my hand for a second too long and smiled, all small, flat white teeth out to say hello.
I'd gone months without a single freaking compliment, but now I dressed like a prostitute and suddenly everyone was appreciative of me. Oh fucking well. I would take what I could get. "It’s nice to meet you!" I hollered with a big grin.
"Is this your girlfriend, Malykhin?” Dennis asked. At least that’s what I think he asked but all I could do was wonder if I’d heard him correctly or if I was imagining it.
Before I could process the question that had come out of the small man’s mouth, Sacha’s fingers curled over my hip. "Not yet! I'm going to take her out to dance. I’ll see you later, okay?" Sacha yelled at him, leaning forward.
Now, I could have freaked out. I could have. But I didn’t. Mostly because I’d done this dance a hundred other times with Mason and Gordo. Whether it was to get them out of some other girl’s—or in Gordo’s case, guy’s—clutches or to get them away from someone they didn’t want to talk to, I’d been a wing-man, a scapegoat and a girlfriend without batting an eyelash. So, yeah. I knew my place in that moment. I was helping Sacha escape and I told myself it wasn’t a big deal.
Friends.Friends. Right. I moved on mentally.
The little man nodded before winking at me.
My friend's hand pressed into my back, leading me toward the dance floor. As soon as we were about ten feet away, he lowered his mouth next to my ear. "I don't know how to dance." His breath washed hot against my skin. "That was our record label owner. He’d been talking to me for the last hour and I couldn’t handle it anymore."
"I feel used, Sassy," I teased him, fighting back the disappointment stirring my gut. Scapegoat for the win. All right.
Sacha shook his head, the multi-colored strobe lights illuminating the sides of his short, short hair. "Never. If I pawn you off on him, then it’ll be a different story." He tipped his chin down with a sweet grin that went straight to me knees, confirming the fact that I was a weak and pathetic person with no backbone when it came to this singer. “But I wouldn’t do that.”
“I hope!” I grabbed his wrist, pulling him toward the middle of the crowd where we could be away from anyone in our large group. “You really don’t know how to dance?” I had to go up on my tippy toes and he had to lean down for me to speak into his ear.
He confirmed it. “No!”
I shrugged at him. “Who cares! I’m not that good either. Just have fun.”
