Page 13 of Every Eligible Man

Her eyes meet mine. Dark. Hungry. Challenging me to prove it.

Wreck leans in, just a fraction too close, eyes bright with chaos. "And you're tired of predictable. I've never been predictable a day in my life. Ask anyone. Actually, don't. I've made a lot of enemies. But the fun kind of enemies."

Cinder looks at us and I watch the decision form behind her eyes. She's been searching for one man who could match her.

But what if one isn't enough?

"The night is young," she says slowly, a smile curving her lips that probably makes lesser men weep. "And I find myself... intrigued. By all of you."

She glances toward the dance floor, where the orchestra is starting up something slow and sinful.

"But let's start simple, shall we? One dance. Each of you. And then we'll see who's worth keeping."

In Ash's pocket, I hear Squeak having a tiny aneurysm. "She said all of us. She said all of us. This is not a drill!"

From somewhere near the ceiling, One-Eye's voice drifts down like divine judgment. "Five hours and forty-three minutes remaining. And they're already competing for her like dogs with one bone. I'm going to need therapy after this."

Bastard honks softly from my shoulder, a sound that somehow conveys both approval and the promise of violence if anyone ruins this.

Susan and Gerald have already disappeared into the crowd, presumably to steal something irreplaceable from someone important.

And Lady Cinder, who's rejected every man in the kingdom, extends her hand toward us.

"Well?" she says, dark eyes glittering with challenge. "Who's brave enough to go first?"

I watch Ash step forward. Watch her hand disappear into his massive palm.

And I smile, because I know exactly how this night is going to end.

With all three of us.

And her.

And absolutely zero regrets.

Dirty Dancing

Cinder

The orchestra strikes up something slow and sinful, strings dripping honey, a bass line that pulses like a heartbeat. The dance floor clears slightly as the crowd senses something interesting is about to happen.

My hand hangs in the air, the challenge issued. Who's brave enough to go first?

The big one steps forward before his brothers can move.

"Me."

It's not a request. It's not even really a statement. It's a claim.

Something hot twists low in my belly.

The pretty one in green raises his eyebrows but steps back with an amused half-bow. The feral one in red just grins like he's already enjoying the show.

"Confident," I say as the big one's massive hand engulfs mine. "I like that."

"You'll like a lot of things about me."

Oh.