Love Show by Audrey Bell Page A

and—”
    “Of course. That’s why you’re Editor-in-Chief.”
    “Yeah, that and a long masochistic
streak, apparently,” I said.
    “ Really ?” Jack said wickedly.
He smiled. “Tell me more about your masochistic streak. Is that like a Fifty
Shades—”
    “Oh, for fuck’s sake. I meant it’s
a lot of work and it’s pretty thankless.”
     “Alright,” he said. He laughed
into his beer. “Ah…” He looked back at me, chuckling. “Want to dance?”
    “Sorry?”
    “Do you want to dance?” he nodded
at the dance floor. “You didn’t make a rule against that.”
    I squinted at the dance floor. “I’m
not a good dancer.”
    “You just haven’t had enough to
drink. Everyone’s a good dancer when they’re drunk.”
    “Are you a good dancer?”                     
    “Amazing,” he said. “C’mon.”
    I followed him downstairs past the
bar to the dance floor. He grabbed my hips and I’d had just enough to drink to
not care who saw.
    I wrapped my arms around his neck.
He pulled me close, and he moved against my hips.
    Yeah, he was a good dancer.
    I was not. And I don’t think there
was enough alcohol in the world to make me one. But, he didn’t seem to mind, so
I held onto his shoulders and moved when he moved and spun when he spun me. And
we laughed. Every time I did something stupid, he started laughing and so did
I.
    I kept spinning the wrong way. His
feet kept slipping and he kept grinning each time, gripping my forearms,
pressing his forehead to mine, his laughter low and gravelly close to my ear.
    When a slow song came on, he shook
his head. “This against the rules?”
    I shook my head. “This is the only
kind of dancing in which I don’t feel like a spaz.”
    I felt small in his arms and I
couldn’t remember feeling small before, and warm. Too warm—really—but I didn’t
want to let go. I could feel every place where we touched.
    He grinned. “It’s too hot.”
    “Yeah,” I agreed.
    “We need drinks.”
    “Yeah.”
    He grabbed my wrist and pulled me
towards the bar. He got the bartender’s attention.
    “Jack!” the bartender said. He
grinned and they shook hands and bumped shoulders.
    "Xander, this is Hadley."
    He nodded and grinned. "Right.
Nice to meet you."
    I shook his hand.           
    "You're the one who seems like
a trap, right?" Xander asked.
    "Shut up," said Jack.
    “I think so,” I said.
    Xander laughed. "Do you like
tequila?"
    I shrugged. "I don't know. I
like margaritas."
    Xander nodded and poured four shots
skillfully, pushing them towards us. "On the house," he said, turning
to a girl shouting for his attention.
    I looked at Jack. "I don't
know about this."
    Jack grinned and licked his hand,
shaking salt along his hand.
    He reached for my wrist and pressed
a damp kiss beneath my pulse point. Without looking up at me, he poured salt
along the imprint of his mouth.
    It stung slightly, the salt, where
it clung to my skin.
    He handed me a shot glass, tapped
his against mine, and licked the salt and downed his, biting down on a lime
last.
    I spluttered with the mouthful of
salt and alcohol.
    "Bite it," he said,
holding out a lime while my eyes streamed. I did, turning away from him as the
juice dripped down my stinging hands. I winced.
    "Blergh. Oh my god," I
said. "I'm sorry, that was incredibly inelegant."
    He laughed. "Another?"
    I shook my head. "I don't
think so."
    A slim, gorgeous redheaded girl who
I knew was the president of Kappa-something, slipped by us.
    "Shots?" Jack asked her,
offering our leftovers.
    "Oh my god, love you,"
she said, taking them. She grinned at me. "Hey! Are you rushing? How do
you know Jack?”
    "Sorry?" I asked.             
    "Are you rushing? You are,
right? I think I saw you at our event today. I'm the president of Kappa Delta.
Let me know if you have any questions at all. We mix with Jack's frat all the
time."
    "Oh, no,” I smiled. “I’m
actually a senior.”
    She frowned. "Oh my