Chapter 19

The second I laid eyes on what he gaped at, I nearly lost my shit. Toby's hands were all over Masyn's ass, and his thigh was between her legs. This wasn't Dirty Dancing, and he sure as shit wasn't Patrick Swayze. But the longer I watched, I noticed she wasn't trying to get away from him-she was encouraging it. Her head dipped to his chest, and she rocked her hips on his jeans. Any second now, she'd toss her hair back and release the sounds of an orgasm, like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally. That would undoubtedly get the town talking. Staring at her, I realized I'd let her pick way too many movies over the years, when all my film references came from sappy chick flicks with happy fucking endings.

When the song ended, I went back to the booth, and Peyton went in search of the bathroom. I warned her to squat and not sit, but she just looked at me like she didn't understand-she would when she got there. Masyn stayed on the dance floor with Toby, not once looking in our direction. "What