Page 102 of Insincerely Yours


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All I can do is groan, because there’s no way Jase doesn’t see us now.

Reed just laughs. “Trust me, dolcezza. I know what I’m doing.”

When we reach Maggie and Adonis, Reed feeds my upper half back over his shoulder, lowering me to my feet, but the motion is slow and purposeful, letting the front of my body slide down his. Even after my feet touch the ground, he doesn’t stepback or release his hold. One of his hands stays at the small of my back, and his other comes up to cup my face.

“What are you doing?” My voice isn’t nearly loud enough to hear, but Reed must be able to read my lips, because he flashes me a grin that would have any other girl melting into a puddle on the floor.

“Killing two birds with one stone.” The way Reed is angled with his mouth practically buried into the side of my neck as he whispers the words, anyone around us would think he was working on giving me a hickey. “If at any time you feel uncomfortable, just say the word.”

Huh?

He pulls back and winks before spinning me around. I’m immediately drawn back into him, now with my spine against the front of his torso. Reed’s hands venture over my hips, moving them in time with the music.

The man knows what he’s doing, acting as the frame to my picture. Every movement has us in perfect harmony, but he makes sure I’m the one on display, the one everybody’s eyes are drawn to. His hands graze over my hips to my stomach and eventually down my thigh as he lifts my leg to wrap it around his waist. We continue swaying to the rhythm, but the percussion has us all but grinding.

A few wolf whistles and catcalls sound off around us, and Reed pulls me in close enough that his breath falls across my lips, offering a rare smile worthy of the Joker. “I’d say your boy looks none too happy.”

I don’t have to ask who he’s referring to, and it takes everything in me not to look, but I still can’t stop grinning. If Jase doesn’t like what he sees, then he can look somewhere else.

And the knowledge that he is indeed looking at us only encourages me as I drag my fingers down Reed’s chest to hisnavel, still not backing away. To the casual observer, it probably looks like we’re about to kiss.

That is, until a blunt is shoved between us.

Reed and I look over to see it’s Maggie, who keeps insisting we take a hit. At least, that’s what I assume she’s trying to say. It’s hard to understand her amid all of the giggling. Reed takes the joint from her and helps himself to a drag before offering it my way.

I’ve only ever tried pot twice in my life and never really cared for it, but I’ve also got a serious case of the fuck-its right now. What’s the harm in taking a drag?

I wrap my fingers around the blunt, ready to bring it to my lips—

But someone seizes hold of my wrist, prying the blunt away.

“Awww, don’t be a party pooper,” Maggie whines, trying to snatch it back, but Reed and I turn to watch Jase stamp it out under his boot.

“What the fuck, dude?” Mr. Adonis looks none too happy, especially since the joint could have easily been extinguished without ruining it.

Jase doesn’t give two shits, not even bothering to acknowledge the guy. Nope, his attention is homed in entirely on me, and, oh boy, is he pissed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was looking for a quiet place to read,” I deadpan, only receiving a scowl in response. “Why do you think? Reed’s worked with one of the bands here and got us the invites.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Is he serious?

I scoff. “Why? Is there some new bullshit rule that says I’m not allowed to have fun in front of you?”

I gesture to the remains of the blunt on the floor, which earns me another scowl.

Whatever he says gets drowned out by a nearby group of frat boys cheering over something I can’t see. Jase tries to reach for my arm, but I’m not in the mood, shoving his hand away.

The jackass evidently doesn’t like that very much, because the next thing I know, he bends over and grabs hold of my waist. In one fell swoop, he, too, throws me over his shoulder and begins carrying me through the crowd. While Reed proved capable of handling my weight, Jase proves to be made of goddamn steel. His hold refuses to give no matter how much I fuss and kick. He just keeps plowing through the crowd with me until we’ve reached a back hallway, where the noise pollution is considerably lower. However, it does nothing to lessen his anger because his scowl only deepens when he looks back out towards the dance floor, his chest heaving.

“What is your problem?” I demand.

“You don’t belong here.” The way he says this—slow and loud—has my fingers balling into fists at my sides, but he doesn’t care.

No, he’s more focused on Reed, who comes charging through the crowd right for him. Clearly, my friend isn’t a fan of me being manhandled either because he shoves Jase back from me.

The latter anticipates the action, bracing his feet so that he barely moves more than a step away. The stance he immediately takes only raises more red flags, because it looks an awful lot like he’s squaring up to fight.