“I’m good,” he said. “I’ll hang around for a few minutes. Just shoot me a thumbs-up or something if you’re okay. And text me when you get home, no exceptions.”
“So chivalrous,” she said, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. Then she turned and started walking toward the woman, her shoulders back to show off her boobs, which, honestly, were usually the first things people noticed about her. Well, that, and her red hair—a thrilling combination for most.
Always good for a nice fuck, that Iris Kelly.
Iris’s steady stride faltered, just for a second. She shook off the words she remembered guys laughing over in high school and college, words she’d felt afresh when everything with Jillian went down over a year ago. Because honestly, shewasgood for a nice fuck.
And she was just fine with that.
She was halfway across the dance floor when the woman turned away from her friend and started walking toward Iris as well. She didn’t get far, freezing as soon as their eyes met.
Iris smiled and kept walking, not slowing down until she reached her target.
“Hi there,” she said when she reached the woman who, for her part, looked like a deer staring down the end of a barrel.
Maybe Iris had read this wrong.
“H-h-hi,” the woman said.
Iris tilted her head, smiled slowly. “You want to dance?”
The woman’s throat worked. She nodded but didn’t budge. Hereyes were as wide as Frisbees, and so light brown they looked almost amber. “I’m Stevie. Shit. I mean, I’m Stefania.”
Oh. She was nervous. That’s what this was and, honestly, it was more than a little adorable.
“Hi, Stevie-Shit-Stefania,” Iris said. “I’m Iris.”
The woman laughed, her cheeks a dusky pink. “Sorry. It’s Stefania.”
“Pretty,” Iris said.
“You... you too.”
Iris laughed. Fucking. Adorable. “I meant your name, but I’ll take that compliment.”
Stefania rubbed her forehead. “God. I’m terrible at this.”
“Maybe,” Iris said. “But it’s working for me.”
“Yeah?” Stefania looked so hopeful, Iris’s heart gave a little flutter.
“Yeah. So what about that dance?”
“Sure. I mean, yeah. Yes. Let’s do it.”
“Great.” Iris held out her hand. “This song is—”
“I mean, notdo itdo it,” Stefania said, twisting her own fingers into a knot.
Iris dropped her arm back to her side.
“I didn’t mean that,” Stefania went on. “I just meant dance. Let’s dance. Not that I’m opposed todoing itdoing it, I just. Didn’t want to assume.”
Iris blinked.
Behind Stefania, her friend had both hands over their mouth, watching the interaction in horror.
“Wow,” Iris said. “You really are bad at this.”
