Page 54 of Make Me Mean It

“I know.”

He guides my hips again, drawing me into the rhythm with him until I’m following the pressure of his hands instead of trying to pick the beat out of the music. It’s easier like this. My body loosens beneath his grip, hips moving where he puts them.

I stop having to think about what I’m doing. My hips follow the pressure of Theo’s hands, finding the rhythm with his until I’m moving with him instead of fighting every beat.

The next movement presses us together from chest to thigh, my teeth coming together, as I become abruptly aware of just how much of him I can feel.

Theo dips his head, his mouth grazing my ear. “Relax,” he murmurs, softer now. “We’re just dancing, Reid.”

“I’d be more relaxed if you weren’t practically grinding against me.”

I turn my head, Theo’s hand sliding from my hip to the small of my back, drawing me flush against him.

His thigh slips between mine, my next breath stuttering out.

The rhythm between us falters until neither of us is moving anymore, and when I lift my eyes to his, Theo is already watching me.

His brows pull together, teeth catching around his lip ring, and for once I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

Then his eyes fall to my mouth, my lips parting and Theo’s teeth release his lip ring.

The music keeps pounding around us, bodies moving and knocking into mine, lights flashing across Theo’s face quickly enough to change the colour of his eyes every few seconds, but all of it has slipped somewhere beyond the hand pressed firmly against my back and the thigh still wedged between mine.

He angles his head, his nose brushing along mine.

I know that angle. Know how easily his mouth could close the last few inches between us. My chin lifts.

I wrench myself backwards, pulse hammering, breaking away from Theo’s touch so quickly my feet stumble beneath me.

Theo’s hand shoots toward me, but I jerk away the moment his fingers brush my side.

“No.”

Theo’s hand freezes.

“D-don’t touch me.”

My voice breaks, thin and unsteady, panic clawing up my throat. I shake my head, backing away, needing space, needing him farther away from me, but the second he isn’t filling everything in front of me, the rest of the room comes crashing back in.

Bass punches through my chest while lights strobe across faces I can’t focus on, bodies pressing in from every direction until there doesn’t seem to be enough air between any of us. Sweat sticks my shirt to my back.

I catch one glimpse of Theo, his hand still hanging uselessly between us while he stares at me like he doesn’t know what just happened, and my chest squeezes.

I can’t stay here.

Forcing my way into the crowd, I shoulder through whatever gap opens in front of me. Hands and elbows and bare skin catch against me as I push through, but stopping would mean turning around, and I can’t do that.

My chest gets tighter with every breath.

I need air.

Somewhere quiet. Somewhere nobody is fucking touching me.

Somewhere I don’t have to think about the way Theo tilted his head and my chin lifted to meet him.