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I slap a palm over his mouth, trying not to laugh. “You’ve got a death wish,” I inform him as Zanders arches a challenging brow in his over-confident way.
Rio’s green eyes shine with mischief because he’s a bit of a shit disturber, though always in good fun. He enjoys getting under his teammates’ skin and Stevie is the easiest way to do it.
“Kidding. Kidding. But this blue dress does look great on you, Stevie.”
“Thanks, Rio,” she laughs.
Zanders wraps two possessive arms around her. “Yeah,” he mumbles under his breath. “And it’s going to look even better on my bedroom floor tonight.”
“Rio, come on. Let’s go dance before the Raptors lose two of their best players tonight. One to murder and the other to a prison sentence.”
Rio and I take the crowded dance floor. With a small pull of his wrist, he brings me into his chest where I place a hand on his shoulder. He’s different on the dance floor. He leads with grace and confidence, completely opposite in his approach with women.
“Where did you learn to dance?”
“Six years of ballroom lessons. I was a terrible skater when I was a kid, believe it or not. I had two left feet, so my mother put me in dance lessons to learn balance. I was the best skater on my team a year later.”
“And yet, you kept dancing for five more years?”
He pushes me out, spinning me with complete control. “Do you know what the girl to guy ratio was in my dance class? I had numbers on my side.”
As usual, Rio makes me laugh.
“That,” he continues. “And I may have enjoyed it.”
I cock my head with a thoughtful smile. “Regardless that we love to give you a hard time, one day, someone is going to be very lucky to land you.”
That olive skin tints with a shy smile. “Thanks, Ind.”
We stay on the dance floor for two songs, chatting and catching up. I thoroughly enjoyed myself tonight. Even though Ryan is stiff as a board, and probably blew our cover, I had fun seeing my friends outside of work. It was nice to dress up, go out, and socialize.
But as the beginning of song number three begins to fill the space, Rio’s expression drops, that typically goofy smile falling into a flat line.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He swallows, looking over my shoulder as we continue to sway along the dance floor. “I’m pretty sure your fake boyfriend wants to very real kill me.”
I still. “Geez. Does everyone know it’s fake?”
“Stevie told Zanders and Zanders told me because, Indy, I was freaking the fuck out.”
“Rio. You and I, we’re friends. We’ve been over this.”
He scoffs, his head jolting back. “I’m not talking about you. I thought one of my closest friends was dating Ryan Shay. Ryan freaking Shay. You know how I feel about him.”
I roll my eyes before peeking over my shoulder to find Ryan sitting at a table, leaning back in his chair, legs sprawled like a king as he mindlessly sketches the rim of his glass. His stance might seem informal, but his stare is venomous, pointed right at Rio.
“Don’t worry, it’s not you. He didn’t want to stay long, and I think I lost track of time.”
“Indy.” Rio stops moving completely. “I might be inexperienced when it comes to women, but I’m still a man. That right there is jealousy.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Trust me. I know that look.”
“Well, then he’s doing his job. Pretending to be my boyfriend.”
And finally knocking off something from his bucket list. Would’ve been a good night for a slow dance, but I’ll take the jealousy.
