Going Full Throttle

Prologue

"See anything you like?" Grace's thin, well-groomed eyebrows danced suggestively over her crystal blue eyes. Her elbows rested casually against the bar counter as she cocked a hip and looked out over the crowd.

A smirk played on my lips as I considered her question. The mob of gyrating bodies before us definitely had more than a few eligible men looking our way.

I closed my eyes for a moment and let the loud, pumping music wash over me. Vancouver club music was an acquired taste. In my first year of university, I had gotten in with a fake ID and thought nothing could be worse. The loud, scratchy, lyricless music was far different than the country-rock I was used to.

I'd become much more accustomed over the years, though. Now, the vibrations of the beat shot up my heels and made my body sing with excitement.

Opening my eyes, I nodded in the direction of a lanky guy with frat-boy hair but a kind face. "He looks sweet," I smiled, nudging Grace.

"Poor unfortunate soul." She shook her head sadly.

He looked over as though he heard us talking and smiled slightly at our obvious stares. I let a coy smile play on my lips before looking back to Grace. "What just because I might like him?"

"Poor guy because you are about to tease him mercilessly, get him all excited thinking he has a chance to take you home, then you're going to peace out, get McDonald's, and cuddle Jedd all night."

"First of all," I held up my finger and wagged it at her, "I do not do that on purpose. Who says that because I dance with someone, I have to sleep with them?"

Grace rolled her eyes and let out a light tinkling laugh. The music in the club was so loud I couldn't actually hear it, but it was imprinted in my brain from years of friendship.

"Girl, don't even!" She shouted in my ear and whacked my shoulder. "You know that's not what I meant. The feminist in me says you can do whatever the hell you want with your body. But the rationalist in me says that when you move your hips the way you do... it screams, 'I'm horny'."

"Well, I never said I wasn't." I shot her a cheeky grin just as the boy nudged his friend and nodded in our direction.

Here we go.

I pushed my hair over to one shoulder, letting it fall down my collarbone and rest over the neckline of my dress. Grace brought the straw of her drink to her lips and winked at me over the glass.

My eyes stayed locked on Grace, but from the peripheral view, I was well aware the boys were walking over to us. It was so predictable, this game of cat and mouse. Every time we came out, it was the same. You lock eyes across the room, a few little smiles, and suddenly they're coming over to introduce themselves.

Two years of partying at university, and it was still hilarious to us that the boys didn't realize they weren't the cat.

"Let's see how they play it," Grace snickered. Just before the boys reached us, they veered off and came up behind me at the bar. The fine hairs on my spine prickled as I felt an elbow brush my back. I stepped closer to Grace, as I would if anyone else was trying to get room to order a drink.

"Oh, sorry!" He shouted as he tapped my bare shoulder.

I twisted to look over my shoulder at the two boys who smiled down at me. "No worries!" I laughed and turned away.

Grace's eyes flicked over my shoulder as she played with her straw. Her slow, deliberate movements made it clear they were still watching.

A hand settled more firmly on my shoulder, so I turned towards them and raised an eyebrow.