The party is still loud, but Alison hears none of it.
His voice echoes in her mind: "Happy birthday, Red."
She swallows hard, her throat is dry. Her chest rises and falls too fast.
For a second, she forgets how to speak. Her body reacts before her brain can catch up.
Scott doesn't move back. He stays close, his breath warm on her skin. His eyes sweep over her collarbone, neckline, hips. Not in a hungry way but in a claiming way.
He says, "I didn't think anyone could actually pull off that dress. But here you are."
Alison whispers softly: "Do I know you?"
He just smirks. "Not yet. Myles Interrupt, he finds them. His smile fades when he sees Scott.
He gently takes Alison's wrist saying.'' Hey you, are you okay.''
Alison nods, but she's distracted, torn between the comfort of her best friend and the dangerous pull of this stranger.
Myles glances at Scott. "You are…?"
Scott answers with a calm stare: "Just a man admiring beauty. No crime in that."
Myles doesn't like it. Alison can feel the tension.
Scott looks at Alison again.
"Come dance with me, Red."
She hesitates, her heart racing, lips parted. Everything in her screams no, but her body is already moving.
She says to Myles, "Just one song," and steps into Scott's space.
His hand finds her lower back — warm, confident, dangerous.
The music is slow and sultry.
They don't speak.
He leads, she follows close, tight. Her body fits into his like they were made for this moment.
His lips lightly touched her ear, he speak in a soft tone; "You're shaking."
She answer and said; "I'm not."
He said; "You are."
Now her heartbeat is so loud that she is so sure he can hear it.
He smells like expensive danger. His hand travels lower, just above the curve of her ass. She lets him. Her dress hold on tightly with every move.
From across the room, Myles watches , with his arms folded, jaw press together in anger.
His eyes never leave her. He sees everything.
Scott sees him too… and leans in closer to Alison.
He ask her; "Is that the boyfriend?"
She answers; "He's just my best friend."
Scott smile broadly, "Then I won't feel guilty for what I'm thinking."
The song slows to an end.
Scott pulls her even closer, their lips nearly touching.
He says: "You smell like trouble… and I like trouble."
Alison wants to pull away. But she doesn't.
She whispers: "What's your name?"
Scott leans in, mouth almost touching hers.
He answer; "You will find out if you survive the night."