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“They’re taken,” Baylor says with a goofy face.

“Ya. I guess nights out like this aren’t that appealing since they’re in love.”

“Well…some of them.”

I don’t have time to reply to that statement, even though I know she’s referring to Savannah. It’s something we talk about on the regular, but this isn’t the place to discuss it.

“Want to do some shot—hey, isn’t that Daughtry?” Baylor’s voice rings heavily into my ears as I whirl around to find Daughtry downing a shot.

Oh.

“We should go—”

But she’s already making her way over to him.

Once we’re at his elbow, I nudge him just as he’s about to shoot another ounce. “I didn’t take you for a shot guy.”

His eyes widen in surprise and something related to hunger when he sees me.

“Teegan.” A grin spreads across his face, chasing a sheepish look away. “You’re here.”

“Ya.” I don’t know what else to say, so I just leave it at that.

Then he leans in, his breath hot against my neck. “Did you follow me here?”

“Oh my God, Daughtry. Are you drunk?”

“Nope.” He shakes his head as if to convince me.

“Should I leave you two alone?” Baylor asks me quietly.

“No—”

“Yes,” Daughtry cuts me off.

Baylor gives me a weird look and then tells me she sees another friend here. I tell her I’ll be alright, so she takes off.

“What are you really doing here, Teegan?” His voice is a warm whisper in my ear.

“I’m here to dance. Why do you think I’m here?”

He just leans against the bar and gives me a look. “You came here,” he points to the floor, “to dance?”

When I nod, he puts his hand out. “Then let’s dance.”

“What? You can’t dance.”

“Nah, sweetheart. It’s not that I can’t dance, I just don’t dance.” And then he spins me around just before we enter the dancefloor.

If I thought brooding, grumpy, scowly Daughtry was hot, dancing, smiling, holding me Daughtry is about to light my panties on fire.

One of his hands is on the small of my back, leading me around the floor while the other one guides me into swoonworthy spins and twirls.

The man must not be too drunk because he’s rock steady on his feet. I don’t know how many dances we go through, but I’m pretty sure his handprint is embedded on my skin. My face hurts from smiling and laughing so much, and I can see a twinkle in his eye. Oh my God, yes I know, it’s so cliche to say that, but I swear to God I can see something sparkly there. And it’s not just the reflection of the flashing lights.

Speaking of lights, they all go extra dim and a whole lot less flashy as the first chords of a slow song play over the speaker. I start to pull away from him. This has been fun. Too fun. And I don’t think I can handle an intimate dance with him. Daughtry’s still Mr. Safe. Mr. Workaholic. Mr. Intense. Mr. Not-for-me.

“Teegan,” his voice, along with his hands, pull me back. “Dance with me,” he murmurs the words into my hair as he rests his jaw against the crown of my head.