The music shifts into something slower.
Zane turns slightly toward me. "Dance."
It's not a question.
I look at him. "No."
He doesn't blink. "You're going to."
Lucas moves, but I feel it before I see it. The heat of his anger at my back.
I turn my head just enough. "Don't," I say quietly.
Lucas freezes.
Zane watches the exchange, eyes sharp.
He steps closer and lowers his voice. "You want to stand here and let them dissect you all night, or do you want to give them something else to look at?"
I hate that he's right.
I hate more that he knows it.
"Fine," I say. "But don't pretend this means anything."
His mouth curves slightly. "I wouldn't insult myself like that."
His hand settles at my waist.
I stiffen despite myself.
"Relax," he murmurs. "You're too stiff."
"I'm not."
"You are."
The dance floor opens in front of us.
