Page 72 of Boys of Brayshaw High (Brayshaw High 1)

In fact, she doesn’t even look his way.

Or ours.

She dances on her own with people surrounding her, hands in the air, hips swaying in perfect rhythm.

Her eyes are closed, her head moving with her body. Sheets of sleek, dark hair fall over her shoulders, the tips brushing the little bit of exposed skin of her stomach. Not a care who’s around or hoping anyone is watching. Just doing her because she wants to.

“She seems more relaxed here,” Cap voices my thought.

“She’s in her element.”

We turn to find a blank-faced Bishop behind us, holding up two cans of Keystone. I look from his hand to him. “I’ll only offer once. Take it if you want it. It’s cheap, but it works.”

Cap nods and takes both, and Bishop walks off.

I glance back to Raven.

She opens her eyes but doesn’t care to look around to how many she sucked in with the curl of her body, doesn’t look to confirm if she’s drawn me in. Because she doesn’t fucking care.

She splits from the crowd in the next second and I take a step forward, but Captain’s hand hits my chest.

“Leave her, brother. Let her breathe a minute.”

“Why should I?” I track her every step toward a group set up with a keg.

“Because she let herself get comfortable this weekend, which couldn’t have been easy on her, and we left her feeling like shit. If we want her close, we need her to admit to herself she likes being there.”

My eyes narrow as they follow her. “Should we be letting her get close?”

“I honestly don’t know. We’re not supposed to want to. Dad won’t approve.”

“Dad isn’t here.”

“Makes no difference and you know it. He always said a woman would make us crazy. We didn’t believe him, but Raven, I mean shit.”

Raven is proof it could happen. We all feel the shift.

The guy at the keg nods his chin and she pulls out a bill – I can’t see how much from here – and hands it over.

He pours her two cups.

I look to my free can of beer.

‘Course she wouldn’t want one simply handed to her.

Double fisting, she weaves her way through the crowd, injecting herself right between Royce and his partner.

The girl jerks back, ready to fire off, but when Raven steps closer to her, the chick lifts her hands with a nod and walks away.

“What was that?” Captain asks right as I think it.

I look to Bishop who of fucking course has his eyes on her too.

They cut to mine a second before he turns and walks away.

I look around, noticing how everyone near her gives her a few inches of space, unlike the others near who are all smashed against each other.

Son of a bitch. “They respect her,” I determine.

Mine and Cap’s eyes connect a moment, both our expressions tight.

Raven has gained these people’s respect from the few fights she’s had here.

She earned it where we demanded it.

“Maddoc ... we need be careful.”

I nod. My thought exactly. But we’ll worry about that later.

I’m focused on right now.

Royce takes the cup Raven offers him and when he wraps his hand around her middle, laying his palm on her hip, I toss my beer to the ground.

“Yeah.” Captain laughs. “Guess that’s enough breathing for the night.”

Royce sees me coming and chuckles. He whispers something in her ear and spins the other way, grabbing the first girl he can find to grind on.

And I grab mine.

She laughs lightly when I pull her in and without instruction starts dancing against me.

I bend at the knee, pushing mine farther between hers so we fit better.

She looks down, following the movement of my body.

I pull her eyes back to mine, finding the tip of her tongue between her teeth. “Didn’t take you for the dancing type, big man.”

“If I wanna dance, I dance.”

She smiles and swiftly spins in my arms, bringing that ass in, but she doesn’t push it on me.

I tug her in until it does.

Her chest inflates and her movements slow. She’s getting turned on just leaning on me.

I run my hands up her ribs and hers drops back, lazily laying against my shoulder, so I skim my lips over her arm.

She took off her sweater and it works in my favor.

Her body shivers and she steps away a fraction of an inch, but my grip tightens to keep her from moving farther.

“You should admit it now.” I slip my hands in her tight as hell front pockets, right against the curve of her bikini line.

“Admit what?”

“That you want me.”

A husky ass laugh leaves her and she turns to meet my eyes over her shoulder. They’re glossy and low, probably effects of the weed and the little alcohol she’s had, but there’s a fire in there too. Defiance laced with desire.

Mine.

“You think I won’t admit it, big man?” Her eyes light up, along with the corner of her mouth tipping up. “You’re wrong. Do I want you?” Her stare bounces between mine. “When you’re pushed up on me like this? Hell yeah, I do.”