"Are you okay?" I asked dumbly, knowing that she wasn't but wanting to hear her speak so I didn't go insane.

"I think I'm just tired." Beth forced a smile.

"Do you want to go back?" I offered.

Her body slumped even more.

Damn it, how was I ruining things even further?

"Tell you what." Desperate, I said the first thing that popped into my mind. After all, she was all about having fun, right? Not being boring anymore? "Let's eat really fast then go dancing."

"Dancing? You?" Beth's smile returned.

Only this time, I figured it was at my expense.

"Just because I'm a politician doesn't mean I can't dance."

"Oh I know that." Beth patted my hand. "I was going to say it's because you're white."

"White guys can't dance?"

"I give you Justin Timberlake." Beth nodded. "He can dance."

"The man's a god." This from Grandma.

"I can dance like Justin Timberlake," I argued.

Grandma laughed.

"Do you mind?" I glared.

She pointed her knife at me and kept chopping with her left hand.

"No, you can't, Jace. You…" She shook her head. "It wouldn't be possible. It would be unfair to humanity to give you that face and body and then the ability to move your hips seductively. Seriously, I'd have words with God."

"I hope you eat your words." I kissed her cheek.

"And if I don't?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I prayed that all the women I'd dated in college hadn't been total liars.

Chapter Twenty

"So let me get this straight. You sear the meat on both sides, and then you add the wine?"

"Yes." Grandma nodded. "It gives it that perfect moist center."

"Interesting."

Someone knocked on the glass.

The FBI agent straightened in his chair and cleared his throat. "So where were we?"

"Somewhere between drugging, dancing, and Justin Timberlake."

"This should be on YouTube."

"Oh, I just love the Tube! And the Facebook! And the Tweets!"

"Why do you keep putting the in front of those?"

"Out of respect." Grandma's eyebrow rose all the way to her hairline. "You never address the president as president."

The agent paused. "You have me there."


Beth


"Alright, let's see it," I yelled over the bumping music. I was thirty years old, had been drugged by a senile old woman, and I was at a club. Oh, and right, I had been accused of being a prostitute. Cool, I was officially living my own mid-life crisis. At least I had Thor. Then again, this could all be figment of my imagination. I could be tied to a giant computer, Matrix-style, and just making up my own dream world.

Yeah, clearly I hadn't drunk enough at dinner.

I bit down on my lip, letting the pain distract me for a brief moment while my heart stopped slamming against my chest. The last time I'd danced was at prom. No joke. I did not dance. I didn't even dance at my sister's wedding. I drank wine and hid my Kindle under the table, reading when nobody was looking. Which, newsflash: nobody had been looking, until Jace had been sent my way.

He had sauntered. You know what I mean. The saunter, also known as the sensual walk of a man who knows he's been blessed with every human gift known to humanity. Good looks, good teeth, good body. Good Thor, he'd been hot.

I'd dropped my best friend that night.

My Kindle. I'd accidently dropped it onto the floor and gaped as he held out his hand and asked if I wanted to dance. I'd said no; well, actually I'd just shaken my head and sighed, because I'd remembered him, and it was just like a fairytale. Having the prince of my dreams reach out to me, pick me out of a crowd. Yeah, I'd basked. Instead of dancing, we'd shared a few drinks, happily delivered via the Drugging Grandmother Express.

"Come on." Jace licked his lips and pulled me closer as we weaved through the crowd of happy couples.

Being this close to him was so not distracting enough to get my mind off the fact that five days from now I'd be saying goodbye to the one and only guy I was falling hard for.

Stupid Thor.

Stupid blond hair.

Abs! Curse you! I mentally shook my fist.

"Come on." Jace grabbed my hand and steered us through the crowds of people having sex on the dance floor.

I wasn't a dancer. Because dancing was just another way people could make fun of me.

Elle Goulding's "Burn" came on.

My heart thumped against my chest as Jace laughed and pulled me against his chest; the lights turned down as he twirled me around and then tugged my leg up around his waist.

Oh. My.

It was the techno-version of the song, or the club version, so it was faster than what I'd heard on the radio.

Jace released me and started dancing around me.

And I was officially in a dilemma. Either I moved and tried to dance with him, or I stared as his body moved in perfect sync with the music. I'd have words with God later about that. I mean, how is it even possible that a guy that beautiful should have everything?

The song slowed.

Jace tugged me against him.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as his hands moved to my hips, helping me move with the same rhythm he was moving with. I closed my eyes and gave up.

I gave up feeling sad.

I gave up feeling embarrassed.

And danced.

Until the song changed to Jay-Z, and then I was lost all over again. I couldn't get the rhythm right.

Finally, I gave up and tried to pull away from Jace, but he pulled me back against him and whispered, "Nobody puts baby in a corner. Nobody."

I felt my grin stretch to my ears as he twirled me. Yes, twirled me to a rap song and then kept me turned around as he moved his hands against my skin. His body rocked against mine, his abs pressed against my back, his arms wrapped around me from behind. Every movement caused enough friction between us to burn the entire club down.

The song ended too soon.

Sweaty, I stepped away from Jace. "That was... nice."

"Nice?" His nostrils flared as he gripped my shoulders with his hands and licked my lower lip. He tasted like sweat and pure man. Was that my switch? A little licking, and I was ready to wrap my legs around him and yell Thor at the top of my lungs?"

"That was…" I couldn't find words. What were words again? And sentences? Nouns? Verbs? My name?

He slapped me on the backside, so hard it stung, then said, "I'll show you nice."

Two hours later.

And I was officially that girl. The one that walked barefoot back to her room and swayed on her feet from lack of hydration and too many shots.

Jace had been peer-pressure-personified. "Just one more shot. One more dance." But he'd kept smiling and looking so damn hot that I'd just nodded my head and smiled.

When that man got his mind set to something, he didn't give up easily. My night had consisted of him showing me just how nice he could be. From pushing me against a wall and dancing his way up my body to licking a shot off my stomach — something I'll take to my grave because it was both the most embarrassing and erotic thing that's ever happened in my existence — to making out with me next to the bathrooms. Apparently we had a thing for toilets flushing; it was the music of our love or something like that.

I swayed on my feet and felt a little nauseated. But not boring. Definitely not boring. Though I could really use a shower and more nice touching from Jace.

I was most likely going to regret my decisions come morning.

"I know why Grandma or our therapist, who looks scarily a lot like Grandma, made us do that exercise," Jace whispered, once we we'd both taken showers and were lying in bed.

I turned on my side to face him. "Why?"

"Because," he touched my cheek, "I memorized your body. I traced it in my mind, felt it in my hands, and when we danced… it was as if you were a part of me, an extension. Not like we were separate people, but one."

"Like a bond!" I all but shouted.

Jace burst out laughing, and wrapped his arm around my body, tugging me further into his warmth. "Yes, my little science nerd, like a bond."

"A covalent bond." I sighed happily.

"Congratulations, Beth, you're no longer chargeless."

"How do you figure?"

"Had a light bulb been touching both of us, it would have exploded."

"I think, Mr. Senator, that you just called me hot?"

"Damn right, I did." He growled, kissing my mouth. "And just so you know, getting called Mr. Senator in bed… hotter."

"Ah, so you are power-hungry."

"No," his eyes darkened, "just hungry. So. Damn. Hungry."

Was he talking about me or food?

He tugged at the strap on my Victoria Secret top and cursed. "Maybe in other circumstances… if I hadn't walked away from you."

"What do you mean?"

He slowly pulled away from me and rubbed his temples. "If we'd met again, after school, before my heart had been shattered and stomped into a million pieces. Maybe if we'd met before then… I'd have one intact. One I could give you. But I can't."

My lower lip trembled. His honesty was going to be the death of me. Funny, because in his line of work, you'd think it would be his lies.

"Which is why," he sighed and turned away from me, "I'm going to sleep. I'm going to keep my hands off and let you sleep too."