“Latin lessons? The music or the language?”
“The language, and let’s just say I’m not one for languages.”
“Your parents sound like they doted on you.”
“I guess you could say that.” I nodded. “They’re very lovely.”
“They live near here?”
“Yeah,” I said. “In Brooklyn.”
“So you’re from New York?”
“I wouldn’t say we’re from New York, but I’ve lived here for a while. You?”
“I’ve lived here for a bit.” His gaze grew distant. “I’m not from here, either.”
I wanted to ask him more about his childhood, but the expression on his face seemed almost despondent. I knew that he didn’t live with his family, but I didn’t really know why. There wasn’t much information to be had on Google, certainly not in-depth as to his childhood.
“So did you take a lot of lessons at all when you were young?”
“No. Maybe lessons in street—” He paused. “Well, no.”
“What do you mean? What were you going to say? The lessons in street what?”
“I can’t really hear you.” He shook his head. “We should be dancing, having fun, not talking about old times. Come on.” He grabbed my hand and started moving faster than the beat but enjoying himself as he swung me around. I laughed giddily as we moved back and forth. This was such a weird feeling to be having a good time with him. I didn’t quite understand how he could be these two different people, the obnoxious, arrogant asshole and the fun-loving, almost captivating man that he was right now.
“So, Abby?” he said, pausing for a second.
“Yes, Dylan?” It still felt weird saying his first name after he’d told me so many times to call him Mr. McAllister.
“You want to do some bumping and grinding?” He grabbed ahold of my hips and pulled me towards him.
“What?” I looked at him in confusion.
“I said I want to back your ass up onto my cock?”
My eyes widened at his use of the word cock. He had not just said that, had he?
“Oops.” He grinned. “Maybe I’ve had too much to drink.”
“We just got here.” I frowned. “You were sober a minute ago.”
“I know. So you want to?”
“Do I want to what?”
“I said do you want to back that ass up?”
“No, I don’t want to back that ass up.” I glared at him. “How dare you?”
“How dare I what?”
“How dare you say that to me?”
“What did I say?” He looked confused.
“How dare you ask me to back my ass up?”
I could almost have laughed at how shrill I sounded. I was acting like some sort of nun being asked to take off her habit. I was being a hypocrite. I had bumped and grinded on the dance floor with so many random men, I couldn’t even count, but he didn’t know that.
“Are you kidding me right now?” He looked around the dance floor. “Half the women in here are backing their asses up.”
“Yeah, but it’s organic. They’re doing it because it’s fun and freeing. You don’t ask someone to back their ass up into your cock like it’s some sort of free show.”
“So I take it that’s a no?”
“Yeah, that’s a no.” I sighed. “Just when I thought you were a nice guy. Whatever.”
“So what? You thought I was a nice guy, now I’m not a nice guy again?”
“You’re not. You’re not a nice guy.”
“What if I told you that you didn’t have to work tonight?”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“What if I told you that you don’t have to meet me outside in two and a half hours?”
“Oh, what? So I can have my day off back again?” I laughed. “No, that doesn’t make you a nice guy. That just makes you a boss who isn’t a complete and utter jerk face.”
“Oh, so now I’m a jerk face as well?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Mr. McAllister.”
“So I’ve gone from Dylan to Mr. McAllister again?”
“I guess so. Look, it was fun for a couple of minutes, but it’s not fun now. I’m going to go and find my friends, and I guess you should go and find your brother.”
“Okay, then. I guess I’ve been dismissed by Ms. Waldron.”
“I guess you have.”
I stormed off the dance floor back towards the bar, hoping to find my friends. It wasn’t even that he’d asked to bump and grind with me. If he would’ve just grabbed me and started doing it, it would have been fine. It was just the way he’d said it and the look on his face like I was some sort of whore or slut who was just going to bend over for him. I was disgusted with him, and I was disgusted with myself because for a few seconds, I’d actually wanted to do it. I’d wanted to turn around and back my ass up into him and turn him on.
But that would have done nothing for either one of us. I mean, he would have been turned on, and I would have been turned on, but he would have thought that I was just some slut that he could get to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, and that wasn’t who I was. I wasn’t the sort of girl who could just hook up and sleep with some guy just because she found him attractive if I didn’t like him. That wasn’t who I was. I wasn’t easy. If a guy wanted to be with me, he needed to show me that he was interested in me and that he wanted a lot more than me to just back my ass up on his cock.
I found Isabella and I grabbed her hand. “I’ma need you to get me another drink please.”
“Oh?” She looked surprised to see me. “You’re back already?”
“Yeah, I’m back already. That was absolutely awful.”
“Really? But I was watching you guys. You looked like you’re having so much fun, and it looked like you were talking as well.”
“It was nice for like five minutes, and then he asked me to grind on his cock.” I rolled my eyes. “So you can imagine how that went.”
“No! He didn’t say that. Did he?” Her jaw dropped. “Is that guy clueless?”
“I think he must be clueless. I don’t know how he gets all these women. I just don’t understand it. But there is some good news.”
“Oh? What’s the good news?”
“He said that I don’t have to work anymore tonight so we can party all night long.”
“Oh, that’s amazing.” She grinned. “So at least he’s not that bad.”
“Oh, Isabella.” I looked at her in disbelief. “He’s worse than that bad. He is absolutely awful.”
Chapter 11
Dylan
* * *
“Hey, Dylan.” My brother, Kent, came up to me, a grin on his face. “What did you just say to her?”
“What are you talking about?”
“She stormed off of the dance floor like you had propositioned her or something.”
“Whatever. She’s just dramatic.”