Oh, Dakota.

Chapter Twenty Four.

Dakota Aniston

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Elijah is going to kiss me.

And my heart is slamming endlessly against my chest. It isn’t necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, more than it was exhilarating. My whole body was flushed, and I didn’t care, because right now, I wanted him to kiss me.

But, I want him to make the move, to know he wants it as much as I do. His eyes are half closed, and his arm moves past my hip, wrapping around my back. My chest constricts, and a warm shiver swims through my veins, leaving my whole body in a clumsy, shaky frenzy. And that wasn’t a bad feeling, either.

Suddenly, Tommy was by our sides and saying, “Eli, we need to be on stage. Are you ready….?” His voice trails off awkwardly, and craning my head around, I find him staring at us, his blue eyes wide.

“Shit.” Elijah breaths, strands of his hair brushing against my neck as he drops his head. Is he disappointed? I didn’t have time to figure out, because his arm left me and so did his body. He gives me a tight smile. “Thanks for the dance, Blondie.”

“Yeah, no problem.” I mummer, watching as him and Tommy walk away. I laugh softly as I see Tommy hit Elijah on the back of the head.

“I saw that!” Someone was screaming, and two arms throw themselves around my shoulders from behind.

“Dianne.” I scold, glaring at her. Her dark hair was pushed into a high ponytail and she wore leather pants, a white corset, leather jacket and red heels.

“So, is that Elijah?” She steps back from me, tipping her head forward. “I think I recognize him from school.”

“Yeah.” I shrug one shoulder, as if to say no big deal. But, my body is still tingling.

“Oh God, hide me.” Dianne groaned, her dark eyes narrowing. She grabbed a hold of my waist, pushing me in front of her. She cowers behind me, her hands on my shoulders as she peaks over my head. This girl is crazy.

I resist the urge to laugh out loud. “Hide you from what?”

“From Sam.” She whispers lowly, as if he could hear us from all the way at the bar. Bringing my eyes toward the three football players, whom are still chatting with a drunken Stacey, I look toward the tallest one, Sam. He’s cute; it’s hard to deny it, with his shaggy brown hair, and brown eyes so bright, their almost gold. We’ve had a thing once, back in the tenth grade. Not really a relationship, more like a fling, for we’ve gone on one date, and then just hooked up the rest of the times. We remained friends afterward.

I step away from Dianne, turning to face her. I cross my arms. “Why are you hiding from Sam?”

“Well.” She blushes slightly, biting into her lip and looking down. “We’ve might of, possibly hooked up before I left for Paris in June.”