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Stepbrother Charming(2)

By:Nicole Snow



Something tells me looks are deceptive, as they usually are. This Tyler might look like Prince Charming, but I have a crazy feeling he's more like the ultimate rogue with the way these chicks are eyeing him.

“Hey!” Dana reaches up and snaps her fingers in my face. “Seattle to Claire Frost – come in!”

It's nothing new, she's done it a million times before when I space out. I always push her hand away and get annoyed. Tonight, I just smile, knowing how much I'm going to miss her crap.

“There are plenty more hotties here who'd actually give us the time of day, if that's how you want to roll this evening,” she says with a grin. “Check out that one!”

I follow her finger to the dance floor. There's an edgy looking boy with a few too many piercings and a swirl of thick ink around his eye that makes him look like an Amazon warrior.

Ugh. Just her type – not mine.

I'm all for edge and ink, but I like to be able to feel a man's bare skin too beneath his decorations. I nod, take a long swig of my tea, feeling the delicious vodka and rum bathe my belly in fire.

“You go on. Looks like he's eager for a dance,” I say, flipping my wavy hair back.

“Oh, no, you don't!” Dana wags a finger. “Come on! Shake your pretty ass. It'll be fun now that you've got the good stuff in your system!”

“Dana, Dana, Dana!” I keep calling her name as she jerks me out of my seat and pulls me toward the dance floor, but nothing's going to stop her tonight.

It's our last good night at our favorite club. I'm heading north tomorrow to take a few weeks off at my mom's house before the big internship begins. I landed a paid gig with Cascades Now!, an environmental lobby with an amazing reputation for landing awesome consulting work. It's half of the equation I need to jumpstart my career – the other fifty-percent is coming from my mom, former three-term Congresswoman, Amanda Frost.

As for Dana, she's off to Portland for her MBA. Really, I think she just wants to embrace the city's weirdness. There's no doubt whatsoever she'll fit in great with Portland's eccentric scene and endless supply of food trucks.

I'm trying not to think about the future. It's uncertain and exciting and so damned unnerving sometimes I feel my stomach churn. Thankfully, the alcohol hits right as we step onto the floor, numbing everything in its sweet fire. Everything is a glorious distraction up there, and it's easy to see why my friend is a dance-o-holic.#p#分页标题#e#

“Go, go go! Shake it like you're going blind!” she chirps.

I laugh, wondering how many drinks Dana had before I showed up. We're definitely going to need a taxi home after tonight.

I move my hips, mimicking her movements. The dress I've picked out is too tight to dance comfortably – or maybe I've just let all the senior year stress add a few too many inches to my butt. Regardless, I hit it hard, and the liquor in my system helps me feel like I'm not making a complete jackass of myself.

It feels good to move – especially when dancing helps me lose track of Prince Not-So-Charming. I don't even see his freakishly perfect jawline hovering over anyone now.

And I'm not the only one who's lost track. Nobody's paying attention to me, as usual. Several eyes are on Dana, though, including the grown up emo kid who's been circling us on the floor like a shark, his silhouette whirling through the throbbing bass and neon lights.

“Hey, little mama, you got a name to go with those moves?” He finally sneaks past me, and he's hitting on her so obviously I start to laugh.

“I'm nobody's mama!” Dana pushes playfully against his chest, and then he grabs her with a grin, pulling her into his arms. “If you want to dance with a grown woman, then step the fuck up. Don't give me that crap. Show me you've got some skills yourself!”

I watch them whirl and twitch in each other's arms. Dana flashes me a drunken wink while I try to cut in with the small talk. That's the cue we've worked out for each other to make ourselves scarce, but it's always been Dana who makes off pretty. Or should I say makes out? Fucks and moves on?

Nobody ever dances with me for more than a minute before I freeze up or shrug the idiot off as a complete asshole.

I've never been into easy, forgettable dick like my best friend. Ugh, and she's already grinding up against him. For a second, bright red jealously burns in my veins. I wonder how it comes so naturally to her – she's had a gift for free, uncomplicated lovin' ever since our freshman year in the dorms.

Whatever. I hope to God my grown up desire to play the dating field seriously before I jump into bed with some bastard will pay adult dividends. They've got to, right? I need to believe all this waiting around for the perfect man isn't for nothing...

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