I Want It That Way - Aguirre Ann - Страница 24

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“You’ve convinced me. I could stand to dance.” I sang “I Hope You Dance,” until she attempted to smother me with a pillow.

“Don’t quit your day job,” she advised.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Without teaching, I’ll be forced to rely on the hope that some rich businessman will decide to keep me as a pet.”

“You should never be allowed to watch Pretty Woman.”

“It’s a terrible movie,” I agreed.

“I hates it, my precious.”

For lunch, I made grilled cheese and salad. Lauren and I watched TV while pretending to study until it was time to get ready to go out. Later, Angus and Max came in, but we were already in the bedroom.

A knock sounded, then some scratching. “Nadia? Lauren? We miss you. It’s so lonely out here.” That was Max. He thumped against the door for a few seconds, then we heard him shuffling away with noisy, exaggerated grief.

Lauren laughed. “Is it me or is he better this year?”

“It’s not you. Maybe give him a shot?” I’d told Max I supported his Lauren-crush, and it seemed unlikely I’d get a better segue to put in a good word.

“Are you serious? He’s such a man-whore.”

“Hey, we’d get pissed if someone slut-shamed one of our female friends. We’d argue that it’s totally okay for a woman to hook up for fun. But since Max is a dude, it’s fine to judge?”

“What—”

Talking over her attempted interjection, I concluded, “I don’t think Max lies to get girls in bed. They wouldn’t stay friends afterward if he did. Remember how they showed up with food for the party?”

The one he threw for you. But I couldn’t say that.

Lauren frowned, looking utterly bewildered. “Do you like Max?”

“As a friend. I just think we’re both hard on him. Granted, he was a tool our freshman year, but he’s settled down since then.”

“Maybe you’re right. He’s been a better roomie than I expected.”

At that point, I dropped the subject because if I listed all his good points, Lauren would know something was up. Beyond this convo, I couldn’t help him anymore.

After my shower, I dressed in old jeans, knee boots and a red wrap top. My battered leather jacket completed the outfit, much more my style than the white dress I’d worn out with Ty. Lauren went with a flirty miniskirt, paired with a sparkly T-shirt and open-crochet shrug. She also put on a pair of leggings because otherwise, the way she danced, she’d probably end up flashing a high school kid before the night ended. I did a quick nod at makeup with lipstick and eyeliner, put my hair up in a tousled twist and called it a day. It took her a bit longer, so I ambled to the living room to wait.

Angus was cooking some kind of rice dish. He turned as I went by. “Going out?”

“Yeah, we’ll see if the Majestic is any less lame tonight.”

“Oooh, dancing. If you give me half an hour, I’ll come.” Since he’d been pretty bummed from the whole Josh thing, it was the least we could do.

And Lauren would probably take that long on her hair, anyway.

“No problem. I’m driving, though.” I’d promised we could leave early if it sucked, but if Angus was having a blast, he might not want to take off.

“Am I invited?” Max asked.

“Do you seriously want to hit up the Majestic?” I raised a brow.

The answer shone in his dark eyes: Duh. Lauren will be there. It was weird that I was the only one who saw it. His answer came across indifferent. “Better than sitting home.”

We ate Angus’s mushroom pilaf, then he got ready, which involved a quick shower, cologne, a new outfit and some major wailing about his hair. It was more like an hour, but nobody was complaining. Finally, we piled into my car and I drove us to the club. The parking lot didn’t promise much excitement, but maybe it was better inside.

When I stepped in, I saw it hadn’t changed much, the same flashing lights and iron pipes overhead, black dance floor, sparsely populated at the moment. However, the DJ was playing Beyonce, a good start. Max went to get a drink while Lauren, Angus and I hit the floor. None of us could resist doing a slightly campy version of “Single Ladies.” When that song ended, the DJ went straight to KE$HA; though I didn’t like her music that much, I couldn’t argue that it was catchy and danceable.

In addition to being the best bad dancer ever, Angus could move well when he was being serious—to the point that people loved watching him. Generally speaking, somebody always was. I hadn’t been kidding at the party when Josh accused me of wanting to kiss him and I answered, Who doesn’t? Have you seen him? Angus had dramatic good looks that made folks turn their heads: shining blond hair, vivid green eyes, tanned skin, fit body. His sweetness only made him a bigger catch once you got to know him.

For once, the Majestic was on point, musically. By now, usually they’d be playing hair metal or some old, outdated power ballads that drove everyone under forty off the floor. It was beyond me how people danced to that, though my mom said you didn’t; you just flung your hair around a lot and screamed. I didn’t like picturing my mom in the club scene, but there was no denying she’d spoken with a certain authority.

I danced through five songs, until I was actually sweaty. If I kept this up, I could sleep through my Sunday workout. I left Lauren rocking out with Angus and went to beg the bartender for some water. Since he was young and cute, a little flirting had him slipping me a bottle, on the house. Even better, since I’d only wanted ice water from the tap.

Max was propped up against the bar, watching Lauren. I sighed at him.

“You’re not even trying. Get out there.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re a great dancer.”

“You’re not?”

“Hardly. I can do the white-boy shuffle. And just look at Angus.”

It was impressive, no joke. Since he was so tall and slim, the sorts of things he could do with hips and arms and legs should not work, should not be so amazingly graceful. Just then, he was spinning, completely throwing himself into the song. I’d seen a clip of Tom Hiddleston dancing once, and while he was impressive, Angus was better.

“You realize he’s not your rival, right?”

“I know.”

“First slow dance, you get out there and ask her. Promise?”

Max knocked back his shot. “Fine. I can probably manage that.”

I chugged my water as another good song came on. So I grabbed his hand. “Don’t be self-conscious. I’m going to teach you some moves. Nothing fancy.”

He watched me for a few seconds then shook his head. “My pelvis only moves that way under one circumstance. This isn’t it.”

“Okay, maybe that’s not for you. How about this?” I showed him a one-two back-and-forth step that was a little better than the can’t dance shuffle he’d mentioned.

Wearing a martyred expression, he tried until he could execute it, but it was obvious he’d never love dancing like Angus, Lauren and I did.

A few minutes later, Lauren danced up, studying his moves. “Excuse me, but who’s the better dancer? Shouldn’t I be teaching him?”

I decided to tease. “Technically, Angus is the best.”

Max didn’t seem to mind the idea of private lessons. “He’s too busy.”

Suppressing the urge to hug him, I said, “You’re definitely above my pay grade, LB. Feel free to take over.”

At that, Max shot me a look that was a strange mix of terror and delight, but I didn’t save him. By this point, Angus was dancing with a cute guy. He looked young, but I didn’t spot the blue wristband. So he’s probably in college, at least. It might be just what he needed, to hook up with someone else. Maybe if he evened the score, he’d feel like forgiving Josh. Or maybe he’d realize it was time to fish or cut line. Either way, Angus needed some movement in his life.

So do I.

With my roomies paired off, it was hard not to think of Ty, hard not to imagine him sitting on the red couch, probably wrapped up in the chenille throw. Sam would be in bed by now, after five or six stories. Most days, I kept my feelings boxed up, and I didn’t let an impossible love ruin the rest of my life. Right then, it was tough.

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