Free Crossing by Stacey Wallace Benefiel Page A

way like getting me to dance is your ultimate challenge. Yes I know I should’ve not said anything and you might have left me alone.”
    Lick, shoot, suck.
    “Nah,” I say, feeling the liquor loosening up my body. “You were always gonna have to dance with me.”

    X

    Liam is a horrible dancer. Closed eyes, white man’s overbite, the whole shebang. But, I will give him bonus points for knowing that and doing it anyway. I try not to think about what this means for his general rhythmic ability in other pursuits.
    Oh, who am I kidding? I’m wanting, more than ever, to be the someone else he puts his body part in, even if he does look to be having a fit of some kind at this moment.
    The redhead makes her way across the dance floor toward us. She stops next to me and narrows her eyes then smiles like…like a bitch. My mind is a little tequila foggy.
    “As you can see,” I shout so she can hear me over the music. “He can’t dance. It’s best if you move along and let the poor boy be.”
    She slides in between us and puts her hands on his hips, tossing back at me, “Maybe he just needs a better partner.”
    I wait for Liam to be offended on my behalf again, but he puts his hands on her and pulls her closer to him.
    Ouch.
    I suddenly need to put my lipstick on so I can stop feeling so damn invisible. I run to our table and grab my backpack and then head to the bathrooms at the back of the club.
    I catch a glance of myself in the mirrored hallway. I’m a little sweaty, but I still look good, for me. Down the hall behind a curtain I hear the drag queens getting ready for their show. They’ll dance with me.
    The door to one of the two unisex bathrooms opens up and the guy that bought Liam a drink comes out of it. He meets my eyes and lets the door drop just as I’m about to grab it from him.
    “Thanks, fucker,” I say to the back of his head. He flips me off.
    I pee and then really lay the lipstick on, convinced that constant reapplication might have made my night go better. I stick my hand up my shirt and paper towel off my armpits, sniffing myself. I smell like tequila. Rightly so.
    Staring at myself in the mirror, I square my shoulders and thrust my chest out. “It’s okay if he goes home with the skank, Dani. You’ll live.”
    I turn and walk out the door to find Liam waiting for me.
    “I thought I was dancing with you,” he says, grabbing my arm as I try to walk by.
    “Sure you did.”
    “I really did!” He looks at my mouth and licks his lips. “You were supposed to keep me from embarrassing myself. I open my eyes expecting to see you, and I’m practically nose to nose with the redheaded skank.”
    Hooooooold up! “Why were you nose to nose if you thought it was me?”
    His gaze falls to my lips again. Liam takes a step forward, his hand still on my arm. He brings his other hand up and cups my face, tilting my mouth to his. He kisses me lightly and then pulls his face back. I leave my face in the same damn place, hoping he gets the signal.
    He does. This time he kisses me properly, harder, taking his time, tugging at my lips with his. Liam’s grip on my arm lessens and he moves his arm around my waist, pressing me to him.
    A little moan escapes me, and his mouth smiles against mine. I lean my head back and look up at him. “I’ve lipsticked you real good.”
    I raise my hand to rub it off his mouth, but he turns his head to the mirror and checks himself out. He brings his hand up to his lips and instead of wiping it off, he uses the pad of his ring finger to even the lipstick out.
    Of course Perfect Red would look more perfect on him than me. “I’ve got some eyeliner in my backpack if you want me to do your eyes too,” I joke.
    He raises his eyebrows at me in the mirror and then tilts his head to the side.
    Okay, he’s drunk, but if he wants some guyliner, who am I to judge? I shrug my backpack forward and open it, taking my make-up bag out and choosing a kohl black pencil. “Turn your face