“Maybe I am,” I said.
They laughed.
I laughed too.
And for a minute, it was easy.
Then—
Hands slid around my waist from behind.
Warm.
Sure.
Not hesitant.
Like she’d already decided something.
My whole body went still.
Her forearms rested lightly across my stomach. Fingers laced together. Casual. Claiming.
Like:this one’s mine tonight.
I turned.
And the room shifted.
She wasn’t just pretty.
She was the kind of woman people made space for without realizing they were doing it.
Golden hair, loose and sunlit like she’d just come off a boat somewhere. Bare shoulders. White tank. Worn jeans that fit like they’d been made for her. Skin kissed by summer, not fluorescent lights.
She didn’t smile right away.
She studied me.
Head tilted slightly.
Like she was choosing.
Then—
“There you are,” she said softly.
Like she’d been looking for me.
My brain stalled.
“I— sorry, do we?—”
“Nope,” she said, grinning now.
Slow. Confident. Deadly.
“But you look like you can move.”
