Isobel tried to analyse the dancing. She really did. But she kept getting distracted by the sheer athletic magnetism of the Alphas on the stage. The way they jumped, kicked, even the way they grinned at the cameras. Their muscles twitched and bulged, their breaths coming harder and harder, sweat dusting their skin, their eyes intense. She started fanning herself, her body growing hot. Theodore squeezed her shoulder in sympathy, the talented, irresistible, condescending asshole.
