Saturday, October 29, 2011


I hadn’t counted on Jeff being such a good dancer.  He always seemed a little nervous around me, but he was an 18-year old guy in a man’s world.  I felt plenty out of place on my own around the Hurricanes, but I must have been doing something right if they asked me back.

I also hadn’t really counted on Jeff looking so good in a t-shirt and jeans.  Or out of it, the way I’d seen him in the locker room. I mean he always looked cute.  Okay, kinda hot.  He was attractive.  Jeez1  But over the summer he’d put on some pretty serious muscle and seemed twice the size of his rookie self.  It was confusing.  He barely needed to tug and I was pressed to his chest, dancing to another song.

“Where’d you learn how to follow?  Girls never know how to follow,” he said, mouth close to my ear as “Goody Two Shoes” blared.

“My dad loves to dance, we danced around the house when I was little.”

Jeff’s smile was impossible to resist.  I grinned from ear-to-ear to match him.  His brown hair was just a shade too short to curl.  It was hot and crowded and loud, we weren’t even drinking and I was having so much fun.  The song ended and we whooped and hollered our appreciation of the band.

“We’re gonna take a break guys, be back in a few!” the lead singer said.  But the music never stopped, it just changed.  Enrique Iglesias poured from the speakers.

“Back to the future for intermission,” I joked.

The whole atmosphere changed just as quickly, from the bouncy hyper-active 80s anthem to this sexy modern sound.  Any space left on the dance floor disappeared as everyone moved into each other.  My friends were swallowed up by the crowd.  Couples formed on every side, but I was already part of one.

Jeff slipped right into the new song without missing a beat; I was back in his arms before I could even breathe.  His wide, hard thigh pushed between mine, his hands held the small of my back.  Our hips rolled in time to each other and the bass pounding through the floor.  I slid my palms up his thick arms, over the soft fabric stretched over his shoulders, and crossed my wrists behind his neck.  His face came alongside mine, cheek to cheek, and suddenly we were grinding against each other like every other couple getting to second base on the dance floor.  


But I couldn’t stop.  The words and finally the music itself was drowned out by the blood rushing in my ears.  Jeff’s chest bumped mine, the button on his jeans pressed against my stomach.  He’d gotten about five years older in five seconds and every bad thought in my mind came to the surface at once, as if pulled by a magnet.

This guy is fucking sexy.  And a really good dancer.

I bet he’s amazing in bed.

Oh God.

I just held on to him and prayed there were no cameras in the crowd.  So far no one had recognized him, or at least approached, but it wouldn’t do for Jeff to get caught dry-humping a girl on the dance floor, no matter how good his moves were.  Especially if that girl were me.  When the song began winding down, I knew we wouldn’t make it through another.

“Let’s go outside,” I whispered against his neck.  I could have just put my lips down and kissed him.

“‘Kay.”  He stepped back, peeling off me like a sticker, and I nearly stumbled.  I felt weak, unsupported.  Jeff slid his fingers into mine and started to weave through the crowd.  Smart guy kept his head down and we reached the stairs without incident.  Three steps later were were level with the bar again.

“Bathroom,” I said quickly, not looking into his eyes.  It took an extra moment for his fingers to let go.

I zipped into the farthest open stall and locked the door quickly.  Fuck, my heart was pounding.  He must have felt that when we danced.  He must have felt everything.


I took a few deeps breaths, trying to calm myself down.  It wasn’t working. My hands shook like I’d just met a celebrity.

Or the guy of my dreams.

None of that, not for me.  I’d had a rough time of it during the summer thanks to a really hot, really fuck-faced guy named Allan.  We had dated for four months and it ended badly when I realized we hadn’t been dating at all.  Just having sex.  Like he was just having sex with at least two other girls the entire time.  But as much as I felt like a fool, I had to admit the sex had been fantastic.  And it had been a while since I’d gotten any.

No, I told myself as the memory of Jeff’s hips against mine made my knees wobble.

Jeff was too nice and I was in no shape for a relationship.  The next time I got involved with someone I would do it on my terms - no feelings, just fun.  No getting hurt again, no trusting anyone.  All the good stuff - the sex, basically - and none of the bad.

I rolled my shoulders back, ran a hand through my hair and stood up straight.  Another deep breath.  I went back toward the bar where I’d left Jeff by the same table as before.

He was talking to a girl.  Instantly my hackles rose - down girl, I scolded my hormones.  She wore a red tank top with her boobs pushed up to her neck and tight jeans.  Whatever she was saying required leaning in close.  As she shook her black hair back and laughed, her hand settled on Jeff’s arm.  He didn’t flinch, but he didn’t reciprocate.  In fact, he looked a little nervous, eyes scanning the room until they found me.

With an almost unnoticeable shake, he freed himself from her grasp.  Two steps later he was against my side, arm around my waist, pulling me into the better part of a hug.

“Marie, this is Tori,” he said so politely I was almost fooled.  “Tori, Marie is a big Canes fan.”

Marie looked like a big pile of wanting to kick my ass.  Her brow scrunched until her black eyebrows were almost touching as she rolled her eyes up and down my size.  The twitch her of neck said she thought she could take me.

So I put my hand flat on Jeff’s stomach and pressed it very slowly across his abs, to the curve of his newly defined chest.  Even as I stared her down, I felt every rise and fall in his physique like I was reading Braille.  He wasn’t sculpted, he was solid.  I didn’t stop till my hand was on his neck.

“Nice to meet you.”  Venom dripped from my smile.

Marie didn’t bother saying goodbye.  She stormed off, melting into the throng, leaving me wrapped around Jeff like a bow on a Christmas gift.

“Thanks,” he said, voice low.  I turned my head, face up to his.  His soft brown eyes blinked back at me.  The way my fingers hung on the curve of his neck made it looked like we’d just stopped kissing.  A long second passed.

“Thanks... ahem,” he said, snapping to attention just as I pulled my arms back into my dance space.  Now two feet separated us and we both looked away.  Luckily Shana chose that moment to trip and fall into the table we’d been using.  She landed on her knees, taking out a bar stool that crashed to the ground like a fallen tree.  

“Whoops!” I scooped her up.  Jeff scrambled to right the chair, putting his back to the people who had turned around at the commotion.

“You’re okay,” I told her.

“I’m okay!” she sang back.  Jeff met my eyes: Drunk.

We propped her up and Jeff stayed with her while I searched for my other friends.  They were giving love a bad name in the middle of the dance floor and getting there was like an expedition into the wilderness.  By the time I stumbled back to Jeff, I felt battered and bruised.

“Do you mind if we take her home?”

He shook his head no and fit himself under her arm, helping her walk.  I hurried ahead for the car and by the time they reached the sidewalk, both were giggling as I pulled up.  Jeff carefully lowered her into the backseat and belted her in, then got into the front next to me.

“Sorry,” I said.  In the rear view mirror, I saw Shana’s head roll to one side.

“No problem.  Let’s get her home before she barfs in your car.”

We did, with luck.  Jeff helped Shana while I called the elevator and let us into her apartment.  He took her right to her room, laid her on the bed and slipped off her shoes.  I watched from the doorway as he folded the comforter in half over her already sleeping body.

“You’re really nice,” I said quietly, when he was done.  Jeff came to the door but I didn’t move.  So he came closer.

“You’d do the same for me.”

I smiled.  “Maybe last season.  I don’t think I could lift you now.”

We locked Shana in and I drove to Jeff’s building.  The perfect awning covered a clean-swept sidewalk, the foyer dazzled with golden light.  It was only a little after midnight - we hadn’t lasted that long.

“Uh, do you, uh... do you want to come up?” he asked.  Then he cleared his throat.  “I have milk and apple juice.  We could watch TV or something.”

Even as I told myself not to, my hand put the car in park.  “The party continues.”


  1. I have milk and apple juice. *facepalm* he really is a child. A sexy child at that...

  2. This made my day! :) I love it!

  3. Ahh this is supercute! He makes me feel old and I'm 23! Do you have a thing about girls/puckbunnies called Marie? The one in your Toews story was also called Marie?

  4. More more more, please! This is so cute, with the possibility to be more than cute very soon too :) Love this, can't wait for more, even if it's making me feel VERY old too!

  5. This is awesome :)



    Milk and apples. Oh lord. Facepalm is right :)
    He's so adorableee <3

    More soon pleasee :)

  7. Oh. My. Goodness.

    Can't handle the cuteness! Skinner's only a few years younger than me but he makes me feel old haha. Looking forward to the next chapter :)