Free My Soul to Lose by Rachel Vincent

one hand on his arm. He
    nodded and moved on to the next customer. “What’ll it
    be?” Traci smoothed back a stray strand of pale, bluetinted hair.
    I grinned, leaning with both elbows on the bar. “Jack
    and Coke?”
    She laughed. “I’ll give you the Coke.” She shot soda
    into a glass of ice and slid it toward me. I pushed a five
    across the bar and swiveled on my stool to watch the
    dance floor, scanning the multitude for Emma. She
    was sandwiched between two guys in matching UT
    Dallas fraternity tees and neon, legal-to-drink
    bracelets, all three grinding in unison.
    Emma drew attention like wool draws static.
    Still smiling, I drained my soda and set my glass on
    the bar.
    “Kaylee Cavanaugh.”
    I jumped at the sound of my own name and whirled
    toward the stool to my left. My gaze settled on the
    most hypnotic set of hazel eyes I’d ever seen, and for
    several seconds I could only stare, lost in the most
    amazing swirls of deep brown and vivid green, which
    seemed to churn in time with my own heartbeat—
    though surely they were just reflecting the lights
    flashing overhead. My focus only returned when I had
    to blink, and the momentary loss of contact brought
    me back to myself.
    That’s when I realized who I was staring at.
    Nash Hudson. Holy crap. I almost looked down to see
    if ice had anchored my feet to the floor, since hell had
    surely frozen over. Somehow I’d stepped off the dance
    floor and into some weird warp zone where irises
    swam with color and Nash Hudson smiled at me, and
    me alone.
    I picked up my glass, hoping for one last drop to rewet
    my suddenly dry throat—and wondered fleetingly if
    Traci had spiked my Coke—but discovered it every bit
    as empty as I’d expected.
    “Need a refill?” Nash asked, and that time I made my
    mouth open. After all, if I was dreaming—or in the
    Twilight Zone—I had nothing to lose by speaking.
    Right?
    “I’m good. Thanks.” I ventured a hesitant smile, and
    my heart nearly exploded when I saw my grin
    reflected on his upturned, perfectly formed lips.
    “How’d you get in here?” He arched one brow, more
    in amusement than in real curiosity. “Crawl through
    the window?”
    “Back door,” I whispered, feeling my face flush. Of
    course he knew I was a junior—too young even for an
    eighteen-and-over club, like Taboo.
    “What?” He grinned and leaned closer to hear me
    above the music. His breath brushed my neck, and my
    pulse pounded so hard I felt light-headed. He smelled
    sooo good.
    “Back door,” I repeated into his ear. “Emma’s sister
    works here.”
    “Emma’s here?”
    I pointed her out on the dance floor—now swaying
    with three guys at once—and assumed that would be
    the last I saw of Nash Hudson. But to my near-fatal
    shock, he dismissed Em at a glance and turned back to
    me with a mischievous gleam in those amazing eyes.
    “Aren’t you gonna dance?”
    My hand was suddenly sweaty around my empty glass.
    Did that mean he wanted to dance with me? Or that he
    wanted the bar stool for his girlfriend?
    No, wait. He’d dumped his latest girlfriend the week
    before, and the sharks were already circling the fresh
    meat. Though they’re not circling him now… I saw no
    one from Nash’s usual crowd, either clustered around
    him or on the dance floor.
    “Yeah, I’m gonna dance,” I said, and again, his eyes
    were swirling green melting into brown and back,
    flashing blue occasionally in the neon glow. I could
    have stared at his eyes for hours. But he probably
    would have thought that was weird.
    “Let’s go!” He took my hand and stood as I slid off the
    bar stool, and I followed him onto the dance floor. A
    fresh smile bloomed on my face, and my chest seemed
    to tighten around my heart in anticipation. I’d known
    him for a while—Emma had gone out with a few of
    his friends—but had never been the sole object of his
    attention. Had never even considered the possibility.
    If Eastlake High School were the