But maybe this is perfect timing.
I look back at Thayer, who still hasn’t acknowledged my presence. Two can play at this game, I think. There’s one way to discover exactly what Thayer thinks of me: to feign interest in someone else. It’s usually at the bottom of my bag of tricks, but I’m seriously running out of options here.
I turn to Aidan. “Thank you soo much,” I croon, taking the proffered beer from him and clinking my bottle against his. “Cheers.”
As I take a deep swig, I can almost feel the moment when Thayer turns and locks eyes on me. I peek over, and yes, he’s staring. Good. But then he catches me looking and arches a questioning eyebrow in my direction. Not a jealous eyebrow. Not an envious, love struck expression. It’s almost like he’s challenging me: C’mon, Sutton. I know you’re just doing this to make me jealous. You’re such a silly girl.
I turn stiffly back to Aidan and thrust my beer at him. “Can you hold this for a second? I need to adjust my top.”
“Sure,” Aidan says, and watches me as I reach up to my neck, untie the thin straps of the halter, and allow the fabric to pool ever so slightly so that just a bit more of my collarbone is exposed. “Can you get my hair?” I murmur to Aidan.
“Uh …” Aidan fumbles for a moment, then places both bottles awkwardly on an iron patio table. He steps forward and lifts my hair so that I can retie my top. His hands shake slightly. I hope I’m having the same effect on Thayer, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of looking over at him to check it out.
“Is that good?” Aidan asks.
“That’s perfect,” I purr, turning back to Aidan and running a finger through my loose curls. Aidan laughs. He grabs his beer and takes another sip. I take a sip of mine, too. Finally, I can’t stand it anymore. I turn and look at Thayer. He’s standing in the same spot with the soccer guys, but his gaze is still on me. When he sees me glancing his way, he raises a hand in a casual wave.
I whip my head back to Aidan. Thayer is going to have to work much, much harder than that.
“So,” I say to Aidan, sidling closer to him. “Has anyone ever told you that you have amazing calf muscles?”
Aidan turns pink. “Oh, well, we run a lot in practice, I guess.”
After Thayer’s magnetic confidence, Aidan’s nervousness feels like a letdown. I wonder what I ever saw in him. But I smile and purr, “Oh, I can tell.”
Encouraged by my response, Aidan launches into a lecture about the various weight exercises he does to enhance his calves. I sneak another glance at Thayer, and my heart picks up speed. He’s pushing through the crowd, heading right to me. Laurel has been left behind at the fence, and she looks bereft and slightly lost. I feel a slight regretful twinge—even though Laurel drives me crazy, she’s still my sister. But what I feel for Thayer is totally different than what I’ve felt for anyone else. All’s fair in love and war, right?
I step closer to Aidan, touching his forearm lightly. “Want to dance?”
He grins broadly. “Sure.” He takes my hand and leads me back into the house. He steps through the threshold toward the humid, crowded air of the kitchen, and I turn, offering one last look over my shoulder at Thayer. His mouth is set in a thin, tight line, and his forehead is creased in frustration.
That’s how I know my plan is working.
11
YOU CAN DANCE IF YOU WANT TO
The basement-level rec room of the Banerjee house has been transformed into a makeshift dance floor. The space is huge and finished in smooth, cream-colored stucco and adobe tiling, with moody, striking desert-scape photography adorning the walls. The plush sectional sofas have been pushed aside to make room for the crush of bodies. Tea lights flicker down here, too, casting wavering shadows along the walls.
Someone has queued an eighties dance playlist, and the room is frenzied, smelling of a sweaty mix of summery, floral perfumes. It’s actually slightly suffocating, and I’d rather be outside again in the cool, fresh night air, but dancing with Aidan is the best way to fast-track my plan. I glance around me as I lead Aidan onto the dance floor. Thayer hasn’t come inside. Once again, I’m tense. Did he decide I wasn’t worth it?
Aidan and I sway to some classic Madonna—Aidan doing more of a dorky knee-dip/head-bob thing—and I try to lose myself in the music, closing my eyes and feeling the rhythm. But my mind is scattered in a million different directions. What is Thayer doing right now? Has he gone back to Laurel? I move closer to Aidan, resting a hand on his hip flirtatiously and drawing his face in toward mine. Aidan grins and wraps his arms around my shoulders in response, resting his clasped hands lightly on the back of my neck. We turn and twirl, navigating the crowded floor as people actually step aside for us. Until there’s a tap at Aidan’s shoulder and we pause, mid-step.
I look up, and my heart soars. Two searing beautiful hazel eyes search mine.
“Mind if I cut in?” Thayer asks, his look implying that no is not an option. The question is for me, not for Aidan, and I can’t bring myself to decline.
Aidan puffs out his chest just like a male bird during mating season. But something in Thayer’s face makes him back down. “Okay,” he says reluctantly. He looks at me. “Another beer?”
“Thanks, Aidan.” I offer him a sweet smile to smooth the moment over.
Thayer moves toward me, and when he touches my hip, anticipation ripples down my spine. The music switches from upbeat to a slow, languid ballad. We exchange a glance, barely hesitating before melting into each other.
Suddenly, everything feels utterly right. He does like me. I can feel it in his fast heartbeat, his shallow breathing, his sigh. I inhale deeply, taking in Thayer’s clean scent. He places one hand on the small of my back, and my skin tingles. I rest my fingers on his shoulders, tracing patterns against the strong, firm muscles of his back. We pull away for a moment and stare at each other, both with small smiles on our faces. We don’t speak. There is no need to speak.
Thayer leans in to whisper in my ear. “Let’s get out of here,” he says softly. His lips against my cheek make me shiver.