Chapter 1: Introduction
The rhythm of heavy bass thrummed through the living room, vibrating an old poster in its frame. Taylor and her friends danced under a constellation of party lights strung from the ceiling. Bodies gyrated, pulsed, and grinded against each other..
Taylor flowed through the crowd, her smile bright as any party. The hem of her white and black skirt swaying tantalizingly around her thighs. Her long, curly brown hair bounced with each step, and her bright blue eyes sparkled with laughter. She was a magnet, drawing every gaze, every smile, every touch.
Standing with my buddy Josh, I catch a glimpse of you, moving through the crowd. I notice how you catch the attention of various guys as you walk past them. Feeling proud, I tell myself I'm on "jealousy training " and I need to keep feeling proud and happy that I have such an amazing and hot girlfriend. I'm actually excited about our little game and I'm definitely excited about what might be going on in our bedroom once I bring you back from tonight's party.
I watch you chat with friends, hugging them, laughing at their jokes, and then turning to catch me staring at you. You wink and blow me a kiss, making my heart skip a beat.
"Hey, handsome," you say, your voice a purr over the music. "Having fun?"
"Hey gorgeous, yea In having fun. Just chatting with Josh. I see you are making some friends? " I say and give you a smile. "Youre the hottest girl here, so many guys are checking you out" I say , clearly proud of my amazing looking girlfriend.
But then, just as I finish my sentence, I see you turn towards Josh, lean in a little too close, and say something that makes him laugh. His eyes flicker down to your cleavage, and I feel a jolt of jealousy. "Oh, this old thing?" you say, looking down at your top, "I just like to make sure everyone's having a good time." You flash Josh a playful smile, and his grin widens, showing off a set of perfect teeth. "Well, I appreciate the effort," he says, his gaze lingering on your chest for a moment longer than necessary.
Josh knows better than to flirt with his best friend girlfriend, but he still cant resist taking a closer look before excusing himself to go to the bathroom.
"Remember the limits babe, no close friends of mine" I say amused and still in a good mood. "Like Josh, or Paul. Those are the only close friend in here tonight I think" I add just to make sure.
I then notice Rick, my old childhood friend walking through the room. We had a falling out in our late teens over a girl that he "stole" from me. I know he had this confident, almost arrogant way about him that I didn't care for but I know some girls liked. And I guess he looked handsome too, even though I didn't want to admit it. I nodded towards him but he didn't acknowledge me at all. He did spend a moment to steal a glance of you though, I noticed , almost fuming.
I also notice your friend Damon and his two friends. Damon was this next door kind of guy, a nice guy that all the girls liked and wondered why he was single since he was "so cute". I know you guys were close.
I also notice some friends of Josh clearly checking you out. These guys already had a few drinks, being a little louder and clearly on the prowl for nice looking , available girls.
"Hey Taylor, looking good!" one of them shouts over the music, earning a glare from me but a laugh from you. You walk over to them, giving each a hug, before turning back to me. "Just being friendly, babe," you say, winking at me.
As you walk back, Rick appears out of nowhere, stepping in front of you. "Taylor, you're looking radiant tonight," he says, his voice smooth and confident. "Want to dance?"
You glance at me, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. "Sure, Rick. Why not?" you say, letting him lead you onto the makeshift dance floor. I watch, my jaw clenched, as he pulls you close, his hands resting just above your ass. You laugh at something he says, your head thrown back, your body pressed against his. The sight of you in his arms sends a surge of jealousy coursing through me.
I put on a brave smile as I watch you walk over to the flirty group of guys. But when Rick walks up to you, my heart starts beating really hard in my chest. It takes all my will power not to walk up to you and grab your hand and lead you off the dance floor. You laughing at his joke and your bodies touching, this is making my blood boil. I also feel weirdly excited for some reason. I just decide its time for a drink and walk up to the bar, choosing a place closer to the dance floor so I can keep an eye on whats going on. I quickly order a drink from the bartender and turn around, watching Rick chatting into your ear. I'm dying to know what he is saying to you, but I have to restrain myself and just stand there watching and drinking..
Meanwhile, Rick is really funny and charming. He is saying all the right things, complimenting your looks and your outfit, saying how lucky I should be to have you as his girlfriend. He cracks jokes about guys on the dance floor and is generally really fun to be around. When the first two songs are over, he asks if you want to keep dancing some more. Gently putting a hand on your hip and looking into your eyes, with an intense, warm and friendly look in his eyes.
"You know, Taylor, I've always thought you were something special. Would you like to dance some more?" He asks, with a confident smile.
You glance at me, then back at Rick, a playful smile on your lips. "Sure, why not? Let's show them how it's done," you say, your voice loud enough for me to hear over the music. My stomach twists as Rick's hands move to your waist, pulling you closer. I watch, my grip tightening around my glass, as you both start to move to the beat, your bodies pressed close together.
You and Rick dance closely, your bodies moving in sync, your hips swaying together. His hands rest on your hips, his fingers splayed out, pulling you even closer.
As a slow song comes on, I watch you dancing close to that dickhead Rick, and I cant deny it: you look amazingly hot, dancing in sync with his body. I'm so attracted to you right now, that feeling is slightly winning over my jealousy building up inside of me. I want to watch more of it, and I don't want it to stop, for now at least.
Rick lets his fingertips gently rub against the fabric of your dress, very gently at first. Then he starts to use bigger and bigger motions, until he is circling his hand over your hips, and gently pushing up against you. You can feel his bulge growing against your hip while he pretends like nothing is going on. He holds you close to him, talking into your ear: "Mmmm. you are the best dancer I met in a long time. I could do this all night long." He then lets one if his hand move along your back up to your neck, starting to gently play with your hair.
Watching this, I'm starting to feel real anxious and nervous, waiting for you to break this dance up and come back to me. Surely now, this is what a loving, loyal girlfriend would do? I tell myself, nervously shifting the weight of my body as I watch you two, not wanting to stop watching you at all.
But it's getting harder to ignore the feeling that Rick's hands are a little too close, a little too wandering. My heart pounds in my chest as Rick's hand moves slower along your back, letting his thumb slide across the exposed skin of your shoulder.
In that moment, his eyes lock onto mine, holding my gaze for a beat before breaking away, and I realize that this is a dance I can't intervene in. A dance that I have to trust you to handle, even as every nerve in my body screams that something is off.
I watch you carefully, searching for any signs that you're uncomfortable. My hands clench tighter around my glass, knuckles turning white. I remind myself that I trust you, that you know your own limits, and that this is just a dance. But my thoughts are drowned out by the loud beat of the music, by the sight of his hands on your body, and by the surge of jealousy that rages through me.
And then, in an instant, my fears are confirmed. I watch, frozen in place, as Rick's hand moves lower, resting firmly on your ass. His fingers clench and unclench, squeezing the fabric of your dress and pulling it tight against your skin.