We’re in a bubble, the two of us, and everyone around us seems irrelevant-or at least that’s my perception. I wonder how my skin would feel pressed against his if we closed that gap. We move around each other, almost warily, our bodies aligned in a slow rhythm, not entirely pressed together, yet the small space between us feels…electrified. His hands go to my hips, settling on top of my coat around my waist.

“Okay.” My hands reach up and curl around his shoulders, my fingers brushing at the hair there. Maybe there’s something hanging out of my nose or my Pirate Red lipstick is smeared across my entire cheek and I’m completely unaware. His focus is still squarely on me as if I’m a magical creature-or a demon. “I do.” Inscrutable eyes rake over me as his expression shutters. “Would you like to dance?” he asks, interrupting me. Strands of “You’re Beautiful” by James Blunt come over the speakers, and color rushes from my neck up to my face as I realize we’re the only ones on the dance floor not dancing. He drops my arms as if they’re hot, and I rub them briskly, acutely aware of his touch.

His eyes drift over my face, lingering on my lips, and I swallow. His hands clasp my upper arms, steadying me as he sets me a few inches away from him. Someone dances into me with a hard bump, and I lunge forward again, my cheek pressing against his chest. “You…” His brow knits as he searches for how to finish his sentence. Unfortunately, my eyes are my father’s, wide and thickly lashed, a blue-green color. Bennett is gorgeous, the little cheater, and according to Mara I look just like Mama did at my age with her pale creamy skin, heart-shaped face, and long blonde hair. I’m no beauty queen, but I’ve had the attention of attractive guys. There’s a quizzical look on his face as he sizes me up, and a few ticks later, he physically winces as if something about me is…unpleasant. We stand in the middle of the floor with bodies dancing around us, neither of us moving as his gaze moves from the top of my hair to the bottom of my black UGG boots, a gift from Mara. “I’m human,” I say, and it’s such an utterly ridiculous statement to make, but he doesn’t even blink. Then he frowns as if he can’t figure out what I am. Warm tendrils of heat slide over me at his scrutiny. “Girlfriend?” I ask, watching her leave, trying to suss out what’s going on. “Fine.” She does a pivot and flounces off. She huffs and opens her mouth as if she might say something else but then decides against it, her teeth clamping together. She darts a glance at me before looking back at him. Her face falls, a sullen expression settling in. There’s a familiarity in her touch, as if she’s known him for a long time. It’s too crowded over here.” She dismisses me and turns her attention away, her lashes fluttering up at him as she runs a possessive hand over his shoulders.

I’ve had enough of this place and these people.

I don’t respond to her question about who I am.

Boyfriend bargain by ilsa madden mills