So it was really fucking weird when he found he couldn’t.
Instead, he stopped to lean against the wall in the alcove leading back to the bar, sinking his thumbs through the belt loops on his jeans. Bellamy paused by way of a tiny stutter step, then straightened her shoulders and promptly ignored him even though they were the only two people in the alcove.
Typical. Man, girls who did shots of wildly expensive tequila were so not in his best interest, no matter how sweet the curve of their hips looked.
Goddamn designer jeans.
Of course, he knew about the tequila because he’d been watching her carefully, even though it was a bad idea. Chalk it up to the fact he was pretty bored, and that, contrary to his hopes, none of Samantha Kane’s friends had been the least bit interesting. He’d managed some passable conversation, but in the end, none of it had been worth the effort he’d had to throw into it.
And the pinnacle of his so-so evening was going to be the cold shoulder routine from a girl he didn’t even like? Thanks, but no thanks. Bellamy’s emerald green eyes were focused squarely on the path back to the bar, and she looked as if she was going to breeze right past him even though he knew she’d seen him. Shane scoffed and pushed off of the wall with disgust, ready to beat her to the punch and let her watch his back for a change.
But before he could turn all the way around, she stumbled off course and walked smack into the support pole in the dimly lit alcove.
Shane swung back toward her, his legs giving up an impressive response time to cover the space between them. “Whoa! Bellamy, are you okay?”
Both of her hands flew up to her right cheek, and without thinking, he covered them with his own. “I’m fine. It’s fine,” she insisted, but her wavering voice betrayed her.
“It’s not fine. Christ, let me look at you.” Shane guided her beneath the one decent overhead light in the back of the alcove, and she didn’t fight him. “Here, lean against the wall.”
“Don’t be stupid, I told you I’m—oh, ow!” She winced and yanked her head away from his gentle touch, smacking it into the wall behind her.
Shane raked a hand through his hair and sighed. “Could you knock that off please, before you give yourself a concussion?” Maybe if he made light of it, Bellamy would ease up and at least let him take a look. God, she was tough.
“Oh, that’s nice. Go ahead. Make fun.” She scowled, but her voice wavered again.
“I’m not trying to make fun of you. I’m trying to look at your face.”
Shane took two fingers and very gently lifted her stubborn-as-hell chin so he could get a better look at the angry welt on her cheekbone. “You need to get some ice on this,” he murmured, frowning. He’d had a few shiners in his day, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the mark on her face bloomed into a nasty bruise before morning.
Bellamy closed her eyes and slumped against the wall. “I don’t want any ice,” she whispered, chin trembling beneath his fingers.
Something inside his gut went completely soft, and his lips parted in surprise. “You’re going to have a bruise, Bellamy. Plus, you hit your head kind of hard. Maybe you should go to the emergency room or something.” He turned to see if one of the bouncers was milling around near the back hallway.
“Shane.” The tone of her voice made him turn back around, mid-movement. “Please don’t get anyone, okay? I promise I’m fine. I just…” She broke off, her green eyes flashing with tears that she seemed to be fighting with every ounce of her willpower. “I’ve had a really, really bad week. The whole walking into a pole thing? Let’s just say a trip to the ER would be the miserable icing on the cake of my issues right now, okay?”
He opened his mouth to argue with her, but the sliver of nice-guy that lurked in his subconscious recognized her embarrassment and wouldn’t let him. “All right. Let me at least get a good look at it, though.” She didn’t resist, finally, so he leaned in for a closer inspection. “You don’t feel dizzy? Nauseous, anything like that?”
She let him turn her head under the light for a better look. “Of course I feel dizzy and nauseous. I just did a shot of tequila.”
Welcome back to square one. Even hurt, she was a pain in the ass.
Shane stiffened at the mark on her face as he ran his fingers along her jaw. He was no expert, but the bruise that was forming looked small and fairly straightforward. “I think you’re fine. Let’s see your eyes.” Not like he’d really be able to see her pupils in this light, but at least he knew that if they were round, it meant she was okay. Her attitude sure was intact.
“I told you, I’m really fine.” Bellamy turned her head back toward his, making a show of opening her eyes as wide as they would go.
It was right in that moment that time slowed way the hell down, and Shane realized that her face was less than a couple of inches from his. Her green eyes glinted as he looked into them, and he was struck again by the very odd sensation of not wanting to look away. Insane as it was, he wanted to be closer.
He wanted to kiss her.
Shane cleared his throat, not moving. “How many fingers am I holding up?” The lag time between his brain and the rest of him made him wonder if he sounded like an idiot.
Her eyes crinkled around the edges, and she smiled a little even though it looked like it hurt. “None.”
Affirmative on the idiot thing.
“Looks like you’re fine,” Shane said, his voice low. His fingers were still on the side of Bellamy’s face, and somewhere in his brain, a voice screamed that he should move them.
But she looked like she didn’t want him to.
“Mmm hmm,” she agreed.
It was a really terrible idea, but Shane didn’t care. Something high-powered, almost magnetic, was in charge of his actions, charring his free will like toast right there in the alcove.
He placed his lips on hers in the barest hint of a whisper, and for a second, she didn’t move. Tracing her uninjured cheekbone with the pads of his fingers, he curved them beneath her chin and tipped it carefully upward, increasing the contact between their bodies. Bellamy sighed into him then, parting her lips to accommodate his, her soft skin opening to reveal enticing heat.
Not wanting to hurt her, but not willing to let go, Shane swept his tongue across her bottom lip, letting his teeth follow in the gentlest of grazes. Bellamy arched up to him, her tongue darting into his mouth tentatively at first, then filling him so boldly that he wanted to do a whole lot more than kiss her. He slid his hand around the back of her neck, cupping her hot skin, getting tangled and lost in her soft golden curls, until…
“Bellamy? Are you back…oh, shit!”
Bellamy’s entire body seized beneath Shane’s hands, and he pulled away from her in a flash.
Stifled laughter lifted over the muffled background noise of the bar beyond where they stood, while Bellamy wrapped her arms around herself and blushed, clearly embarrassed. “Yeah, I, uh…” She trailed off, unable to finish.
“God, we’re sorry.” The friend who had picked Bellamy up from the garage earlier eyed both of them with a half-smile as she stopped short in the dim hallway.
Bellamy’s expression went from embarrassed to mortified in less than a breath. Well, shit. Who could blame her? Her high-brow friends had just caught her kissing the lowly car mechanic. What had he been thinking?