“Meaning she doesn’t look like you?”
“If Lizzy had been here, you would only have eyes for her.”
I grunt. “Don’t count on it.”
“Lizzy is… She’s gorgeous. The classic blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty. She has a great sense of humor, and she’s always smiling. Everyone is happier when Lizzy is around.” She drops her gaze to the floor.
“Not all guys are hung up on blondes.”
She snorts. “Trust me. Being a brunette is the least of my worries.”
“I don’t understand. You think she’s more fun than you or what?”
She wanders over to the couch and sinks into the cushions, crossing one leg over the other and revealing another two inches of soft thigh while doing so. With some women, that would have been a calculated move meant to draw me in, but that’s not the case with her, and knowing that makes it even sexier.
She settles her drink on her knee and studies it. “I think she’s more attractive than me.” She gives a smile that wouldn’t fool a soul and shrugs. “No big deal. Is what it is.”
“There’s no one measure of attractiveness,” I argue. “She might be more attractive than you to one guy, but you’re going to be more attractive than her to another.”
“Oh boy, do I know how to have a good time or what?”
I know she wants to drop it, but I can’t. Not yet. “You’re just so fucking stunning. I’m a little surprised at your insecurities.”
She takes a long sip of her drink. “I could use a guy like you around, boosting my ego. It might be good for me.”
“Your boyfriend doesn’t?”
“I—” She squeezes her eyes shut. “We broke up. But don’t say anything to Maggie. I haven’t told her yet. Or anyone else, for that matter. It’s complicated.”
I’d like to say I’m not happy to hear those words, but I’ve never been a saint. “Damn. I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” Ice clinks against the side of her glass as she tilts it against her lips. She sips and swallows, her tongue darting out to catch a stray drop. “I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want to think about it. You know what I want to do? I want to…”
She trails off, and I wait to be disappointed. Wait for her to say that she wants me to fuck her silly, that she wants a rock star to prove that her idiot boyfriend should have appreciated her more.
Hell, I’d do it. If she wanted me to take her on this couch with her boyfriend watching on FaceTime, I couldn’t bring myself to say no.
And that is insane, because I’m not some horny teenager desperate to get off.
I’d do it just to watch the way her eyes flare to life when I look at her. To see her blush and that pulse thrum a little faster at the side of her neck. I’d do it just to taste her.
“I want to have fun,” she finally says, her eyes lifting to connect with mine. “I’ve been so busy with finals and graduation, and I haven’t made time to let loose.”
“And how do you let loose, Hanna?”
Her smile is so bright that it damn near punches me in the gut with desire. Goodness radiates off her, and I want to crawl inside.
“I dance.”
THERE ARE very few nights of my life that I’m confident I will remember forever. But tonight makes the list. It’s a dream. A fantasy.
Every date and kiss and moment with Max always felt like it was leading to something more. Something bigger. I have no illusions here. This night has nothing to do with what comes after, and maybe that’s why I’m so uninhibited. A single night. A fantasy. An escape from my heartbreak.
Sweaty, teeming bodies fill the dance floor that literally pulses with the bass from the music.
I move awkwardly at first. There’s only room to dance against each other.
Taking a breath for courage, I step closer. My arms lo