"I'll go grab us some drinks," Charlie yells over the music, flicking her head to the kitchen and I nod, looking towards the dance floor. "I'll be on the dance floor."
She nods and wanders off while I turn my attention to the dancing crowd, slipping between them before I'm safely buried in the swaying bodies.
As the music throbs through the room, I surrender myself to the rhythm, my body swaying and my hair cascading down my back like a waterfall of honey. Lost in the moment, all inhibitions forgotten.
This is why I go out, not to drink, not to hook up, but to dance. If there's no good music, then you better believe I'll be making my way home.
A pair of hands find their place on my hips, moving in sync with my own swaying motion. A warm presence presses against my back, and I turn my head to find Asher standing there, his familiar cologne enveloping me.
Leather, sandalwood and smoke. It was distinctly him. It was warm, welcoming, hot. I couldn't deny it.
I'd never had a crush on Asher. He was off-limits. My brother's best friend. My best friend's brother. Automatically filed under not an option.
Still.
Him being attractive didn't stop being true just because something was inconvenient. I wasn't blind.
His blue eyes were always so expressive, with slight wrinkles around them from sun exposure and laughter, prominent cheekbones with a soft smattering of freckles, a slightly crooked nose from hockey and an olive complexion that he had all year round.
I was slightly jealous, usually I had to fake tan if I wanted to get any of that golden glow but alas, I was lazy and born with fair skin.
And don't get me started on when Asher wears his glasses, he was every woman's wet dream once he slipped them onto his crooked nose. I'd heard enough rumours to know he had half the universities female occupants panting after him. It was likethat in high school too. Asher had been the centre of attention since we were children. He could have anyone he wanted. And if rumours were to be believed, he frequently did.
He was cute. And hot. And attractive. And it was annoying, how could a guy have all three and still be nice and fit? It seemed like blasphemy.
But again, I repeat, I had never had a crush on him. I couldn't, he was Charlottes brother and I wasn't going to ruin a friendship for a guy.
Asher's hands tighten on my hips, his head dipping down to rest on my shoulder when I go to turn towards him.
His lips brush my ear, his voice a gentle murmur that sends a delightful shiver down my spine. "Close your eyes and just let go," he whispers, his warm breath tickling my skin.
Confusion mingles with curiosity in my gaze as I meet his, my voice barely audible above the music. "What are you doing?" I ask, my heart racing with anticipation that I try to squash.
A playful grin curves his lips. "I told you to save me a dance."
Our bodies move in harmony, and for a second I think I shouldn't be doing this, Charlie could arrive any second with our drinks and see me dancing with her brother.
And that would be a conversation I do not want to have.
Oh, why am I dancing with your hot as sin brother? Well, you know that conversation we were having, yes that conversation. I chose your brother, isn't that cool?
I doubt that conversation would go down as smoothly as I want it to.
I make to pull away but Asher holds tight, and he must know where my mind has gone because he says, "Don't worry, I'll be able to see if she's coming. There was a massive line up in the kitchen to make drinks."
I relax, but only slightly. My body too stiff too move naturally to the music.
But Asher's touch guides me, his presence a reassuring anchor in the swirling sea of people. "This is tip four," he murmurs, his voice tender yet the words cause my cheeks to flush.
Tip four? Already.
With a soft sigh, I close my eyes, surrendering to his lead. His hands hold me firmly yet gently, guiding me in a dance that was both intimate and electrifying. The rhythmic beat of his heart reverberated through my back, before I feel more than hear him begin to speak, the vibrations of his voice noticeable against my neck.
Then, his words, like a velvet caress, brush against my ear, sending a delightful swarm of butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
No, nope. No. I force them away.
"When kissing someone, you want to get lost in the moment, but don't get lost too quickly otherwise you'll go in tongue first and not lips." He laughs lowly and I swallow the lump in my throat.
