Beneath

20 DANCE WITH ME

NOAH

Camila plucks two shots off a passing tray. She tosses one back, wincing, then presses the other to my lips and tilts it up. I hold her eyes as the tequila burns down my throat, swallowing. A drop of liquid trails down my chin, and she's there, tracing the path with her tongue up to my top lip.

My hands grip her tighter than I intend to. "You're not helping my current predicament."

Her hands slide up my arms, shoulders, and into my hair. "I missed you like crazy."

"I missed you, too." Understatement. I think I was only half alive before I met her.

I pull her closer, torturing myself, breathing in her half-sweet, half-heady scent. "Seeing you like this is more than I hoped for tonight. It's making me think about bad, bad things." My hands slide up the slice of skin on her bare back. "Remind me to work on my split squats."

"I was nervous. But now I feel good."

"Fucking right you feel good." My thumbs slip under her insanely small shirt. Her skin is feverish. I pause. "Cam, how many drinks have you had?"

She bites her puffy bottom lip as she pulls back. "One shot in the room, one here. Dance with me?" If she wants to move, who am I to deny her?

"Take me away."

She pulls me by the sweater toward the dance floor. The crowd parts for us, or maybe I'm delusional.

The music swells, a pulsating beat that wraps around us. Cam's back hits my chest. My hands settle on her hips, guiding a perfect syncopation. The song shifts to a slower, scarier beat that allows for less space and more friction. It's maddening, the way she fits against me.

Our moment doesn't last long enough.

Fireman Fox cuts in, a wide grin on his face as he approaches Cam and me. "Sport, you're a vision. Let me steal you for a song. DJ's playing Thriller next and Maddie refuses to dance because she doesn't want to look stupid."

"Hell yeah, Freckles. I love that one." Cam blows me a kiss before letting Fox lead her away by the hand.

I'm left standing there, suddenly feeling out of place, as I watch them find a spot on the dance floor. Sure enough, Thriller starts, and they both know every move. Soon there's a spotlight on them from above, and they don't even seem to notice the way people part around them to make room.

Then Paige is beside me, her presence like a cold shadow, all golden armour and skin. "You've been avoiding me."

Fucking right. Last summer at Fox's cottage, she kissed me, said she was in love with me, and then cried and slapped me in the face when I gently told her I wasn't interested.

My attention is on Cam. Her tan, toned body rolls like a professional. She's outdoing Fox in every aspect, and she's having fun.

Maddie's not far in her Dalmatian body suit, her eyes locked on the dancing pair. I see the tight set of her jaw, the way her hands clench at her sides.

Paige, with a tilt of her head towards Cam and Fox on the dancefloor, says, "They look good together, don't you think?"

"They're dancing."

"Yeah, but you have to admit there's something there. See how Fox is looking at her? Like he wants to fuck her, Noah."

"They're friends, Paige." My voice is firm, a clear line drawn.

"If you say so, Noah." I feel the doubt she's trying to sow, the wedge she's trying to drive. "I'm just looking out for you. She gets a little... unstable, doesn't she?"

"Your insecurity is showing, Paige." My gaze returns to Camila and Fox. They're still dancing, still laughing. Fox is my best friend. I trust Cam.

All is well.

Paige waits for me to look at her—or do anything. But I don't. So off she drifts with a scoff.

Maddie stomps her foot and stalks out of the ballroom.

As the song ends, the pair aggressively shake hands to a round of applause and make their way back. Fox jogs over to clap me on the shoulder as a thanks, then he's off.

Cam hits my chest, hands looping around my neck. "I saw Paige with you. I got jealous. She's been dropping weird hints for hours. Is she an ex?"

I run my knuckles over Cam's shoulder blades. "Not quite. We made out a little when we were younger. Last year, she ambushed me and things ended badly." She nods, her body relaxing against mine. "You don't have to be jealous," I whisper into her ear, kissing just below it. "But I like it."

She pulls back, scanning the crowd before turning. There's a spark in her smile. "Follow me." She takes my hand, leading me with a sense of purpose that has me entirely captivated.

We weave through the throng, slipping out of the ballroom into the quieter, dimly lit corridors of the hotel. The music fades behind us.

Finally, she stops in front of a nondescript door, pushing it open and pulling us both into what appears to be a storage closet. It's cramped, filled with stacks of chairs and tables, linens, and boxes. Cam reaches behind the door to slip a lock into place.

I blink in the dim light, lamps from the hall glowing under the door, casting shadows that dance across Cam's body as she turns to me, backing away to put her back to the opposite wall.

"Why do you think you're here, Noah?" Her voice is low.

I inhale sharply, my arms rising to grip the shelves beside me for support. "You want to see how far you can push me."

"And if I want to push you over the edge?"

"Then I'd say you're doing a good job. I've been on the edge since the moment I laid eyes on you."

Her head lolls back into the wall, all that dark hair shifting and moving around her shoulders. "This is getting difficult. All these terms."

"Come here," I say.

She moves like a magnet, hitting my chest, reaching to thread her hands through my hair. I keep my hands on the shelves, the wood groaning under my grip.

Leaning into her mouth, I let my lips brush hers. "What do you say, huh? Can wake you up with a kiss on the shoulder? Kiss you goodnight?" I skim my lips up across her cheek. "Deep... hard... breathless?"

She whimpers, tugging my hair. "Wait. Just... Let me go first this time. I want to touch you. Trust that I want you like you want me."

My hands find her neck and jaw, tilting her up, brushing my mouth on hers. I want that mouth. I want everything. But more than that, I want to deserve what she's about to give me.

"You sure?" I ask again. Not because I doubt her, but because I won't ever be the reason she regrets something.

"Very sure," she says. I search for any sign of hesitation. There's none.

"Camila," I start, "I believe we've struck a bargain."

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these people are horny omg

Thanks for reading Beneath.
—Laurel Montaze—
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