“Don’t stop dancing on my account,” Darius urged, his eyes dripping over my shorts in a way that made my blood heat. “What do you want?” I demanded. “I had no idea you were such a huge Taylor Swift fan,” he said, leaning against the doorframe like he owned the damn place. Which I guessed he thought he did as the almighty House Captain. Taylor belted out another chorus and I tilted my head as I regarded him. “She makes some very good points which I happen to agree with.” “It suits you,” he said. “What does?” I asked. “Smiling.”
