Without sounding too dramatic—stab a thousand needles in both my eyes.
I’m not jealous because I don’t want Foster.
He isn’t exactly boyfriend material. From everything I’ve ever heard about him, he doesn’t do relationships. I’m actually a tad worried about his emotional state and whether he has any emotion besides grumpy. For our child’s sake only, of course.
So, it’s definitely not jealousy that’s coursing through my body as I watch Stephie fawn all over him in the VIP booth Easton and I swindled us. We used our names and influence. Saffire is a pretty hot club in Chicago, so it’s a miracle we landed a booth, but Easton is never against tossing money around to get what he wants.
Now I sit across from them. Easton and Millie are on the dance floor while Stephie looks longingly in its direction, trying to coax Foster out there with every new song that plays. Leighton and Hayes disappeared a half hour ago, and I question whether we’ll see them again tonight.
“Come on, Reap,” Stephie says, using his nickname—which grates on my nerves for reasons I’m not giving attention to right now.
“Yeah, Reaper, dance with the girl.” I smirk at him.
His eyes narrow at me from across the booth. “I don’t dance.”
“Why not?” Stephie’s head falls back. “You can just stand there, and I’ll dance around you if you want.”
Decker sits next to me, sipping his drink. “’Cause that’s fun, and he’s not fun.”
I have no idea how Foster hears Decker’s comment, but his gaze shoots over to him with a look that could kill a million blood-sucking vampires.
Why do I even feel like playing this stupid game of who can make who jealous?
It’s childish.
It’s immature.
But it’s happening.
“Do you want to dance, Deck?” I place my water on the table. No one batted an eye when I didn’t order a drink after I used the excuse of having a long day tomorrow.
“Sure.” He places his beer on the table and stands, holding out his hand.
“Ugh… I guess I picked the wrong brother.” Stephie wiggles her body along the seat like a toddler who was told she has to eat her vegetables before being excused.
“Fuck it. Fine.” Foster slams his glass on the table, and the liquid sloshes over the rim.
The brotherly rivalry is thick between Foster and Decker, though I have no idea why.
Decker and I reach the dance floor, and when Easton and Millie see us, they dance over. Decker wraps an arm around my waist, his thigh between my legs, and links our free hands together, twirling me around the dance floor while his hips move to the beat.
“Holy shit, seriously?” My head falls to his shoulder in laughter. “You’re, like, good at this.”
“Single mom,” he says, continuing to dance provocatively with me.
“Your mom taught you to dance this sexy?”
He chuckles. “God, no. She taught me the basics, and I had a couple girlfriends who loved to dance. I got comfortable with my body and how to move it, how to lead.”
He turns us, and suddenly I’m facing the other direction as he steers us.
“Well, seems they were all good teachers. I’ve never danced like this.”
“I figured you’d be surprised.”
“Surprised is putting it mildly. I thought we were going to be dancing in place and snapping our fingers.”
He shakes his head. “I’m used to being thought of as the boring one.”
