“Are you out of your mind?” My voice came out louder than intended, and a few people turned our way, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. There was absolutely no possibility that I had a crush on Shaw. “I don’t like him. I can hardly stand being in the same room with him.”
“So? You’re a boy. Boys are weird like that.”
“Can you say stereotype?” I rolled my eyes, but she ignored me.
“It’s okay if you do like him, ya know? And it’s okay if you’re not really in love with Danny.”
“I have no idea how you got that out of what I said. I’m not touching the Danny thing, because what’s most important is that I do not, will not, ever like Shaw that way. We would be a train wreck. Worse than that. We’d be a train wreck in a tornado surrounded by wildfires right before an earthquake.” How could she even think that?
Brooklyn chuckled. “Okay.”
Okay? Okay? That was all she was going to say? “I don’t have a crush on Shaw.”
“I said okay.”
“Yes, but you didn’t mean it. I’m not stupid. I know what you’re doing.”
“Having a conversation with my friend? Who may or may not be freaking out right now over not having a crush on someone?”
That jump-started my logic. She was right. Who cared if she thought I liked Shaw? I knew I didn’t. That was all that mattered. “I’m glad we see eye to eye on this.”
“Absolutely.” Brooklyn nodded dramatically.
“You suck.”
“I’m good at it too.” She winked.
“You know what I mean.”
“Do you think Shaw would be interested in me?” she mused. “I haven’t had a hookup in a while. He’s fine as fuck, so if you don’t want him, maybe I’ll ask him out.”
My pulse sped up, which wasn’t a reaction I was proud of. Still, I wasn’t going to fall for this. Brooklyn wasn’t going to trick me. “Let me know if you want me to give him your number.” It didn’t matter to me if Brooklyn and Shaw hooked up. Why should I care?
“I will.”
“Good for you,” I told her.
“Well, good for Shaw.” She grinned, and I shifted uncomfortably.
I didn’t care who Shaw slept with. He and Brooklyn could fall in love, get married, and live happily ever after for all I cared.
I didn’t like him.
That was impossible.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Shaw
I couldn’t believe I was doing this.
Elijah used to dance, and now he spent his days doing Pilates. That meant he had to be coordinated when it came to moving his body the way one had to move it to dance—really dance. I wasn’t talking about what I did at the club, which was move my feet and touch other people. He would be better than me, and that wasn’t something I was okay with at all.
But there wasn’t a chance in hell I was backing out of this either. So I grabbed my stuff, left my apartment, went across the hallway to his, and knocked. The door opened almost instantly. “Aw, were you waiting for me? I missed you too, sweetheart.”
“You seem obsessed with us missing each other. I feel bad that the feeling isn’t mutual,” he replied, which made me roll my eyes. He liked me more than he was willing to admit. The fact that we were about to go learn the cha-cha together proved it. One could say it proved I liked him as well, but I had less trouble admitting that than I thought he probably did.
“You look cute,” I told him, figuring the whole kill-him-with-kindness thing was the smarter way to go.
“Huh?”
It wasn’t a lie. He wore black pants with a tight, black V-neck tee. It looked like he’d freshly buzzed and dyed his hair, with a neatly done fade. His eyes were hypnotizing, this whiskey color.
“You look good.” I shrugged. “Am I not allowed to give you compliments?”
He closed and locked the door. “Okay, who are you, and what did you do with Shaw?” We began walking down the hallway, toward the elevators.
“Ha-ha. I’m not the mean one in our relationship. You’re the one who won’t acknowledge how hot I am. I’ve been quite open with the fact that I think you are.”
“I’m not mean. I simply don’t see the point of inflating your ego. If it gets any bigger, you might hurt yourself, so really, I’m being a good friend.”
“I’m touched you care about me so much.”
“What can I say?” Elijah replied. “I’m a nice guy.”
We took the elevator, and I said, “I already ordered a car. It should be here in three minutes.”
When we stepped outside, the air was warm and humid, but I’d spent my whole life in Georgia and was used to it, even though I didn’t like it.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“And you didn’t have to pay for the class,” I countered. He’d messaged me the other day to tell me he’d registered us and paid. “This was my idea. I should have been the one to pay.”