Hope glances over her shoulder at me, and I give a quick nod and smile, letting her know she’s in good hands.
“Okay, where in the world did you find that goddess?” Chris asks, and Jason just snorts into his beer.
“It’s a long and complicated story, one I doubt your tipsy brain could handle right now.”
The night is still young, and Chris is already plastered, which likely explains why he’s wandering around without a shirt on. If I could guess, it’s probably destroyed and left somewhere he won’t find until a month later.
“Are you sure she’s just a friend? Because the way your eyes keep following her, I’m starting to think there’s more to this little friendship of yours,” he adds.
Judging by the nearly identical smirks on Chris and Jason’s faces, I’d say I’ve been doing a pretty piss-poor job of hiding my interest in Hope.
“Nah. I’m just making sure she’s alright. She hasn’t been to something like this in a while, so she’s a little nervous.”
“Sure, brother. Whatever you say,” Chris teases, tossing me a wink.
“Leave the poor bloke alone. He can be friends with a woman without wanting to rip her clothes off,” Jason says, as always coming to my rescue.
That is, until he and Chris exchange a look and burst out laughing.
Clearly, I’m the butt of the joke here.
“Fuck the both of you!” I say lightly, not confrontational in the least—though I mean it all the same.
That only makes them laugh louder, and I have to fight the urge to kick them both in the kneecaps.
“What’s so funny?” Gemma asks as she and Hope, now cradling a glass of white wine, come back to join us.
The boys’ laugher ceases immediately, and Jason has the audacity to wink at me.
Arsewipe!
“I got this for you.” Hope hands me a Heineken Zero, a non-alcoholic beer, and I smile in thanks as I take it, appreciating the consideration behind the gesture, after telling her earlier that I don’t really drink anymore.
We stand around just casually chatting and catching up, most of the questions directed at Hope, which she answers each one with a smile.
When Chris launches into a story about a drunk woman who tried to shank him with a broken glass last weekend at the bar after he cut her off, I catch Hope’s gaze and silently mouth,You good?
She gives me a quick nod and a sincere smile, and the faint knot of nervous tension in my stomach finally eases.
Throughout the night, I simply watch her with my friends, noticing how her body gradually relaxes as she grows more at ease around them—and with every glass of wine. Her laughter is contagious, a genuine sound that penetrates deep into my bones.
Chris was right. I can’t seem to stop looking at her, my gaze finding hers again and again, even as more people drift over to join us.
When Gemma grabs Hope’s hand and pulls her into the centre of the room to dance, I almost forget how to breathe.
Hope’s movements are downright sinful—hypnotic, the slow, fluid sway of her soft, curvy hips falling perfectly in time with the rhythm. She looks breathtaking, unguarded, completely lost in the moment, and I can’t tear my eyes away.
The songDance With Meby 112 starts playing through the surround-sound speakers, mid-way through my conversation with Jason. When my eyes land on Hope again, she’s facing me now, a finger curling and uncurling in a teasing, come-hither gesture.God, she’s fucking beautiful.
I shake my head, feeling slightly nervous and shy, mostly because I don’t have alcohol to blame if I make a fool out of myself while dancing. When an elbow nudges my arm, I snap my head towards it and see Jason grinning at me.
“What the hell are you waiting for? Go dance with your girl.” He winks, and I let out an anxious laugh.
Inhaling a deep breath, I hand him my non-alcoholic beer, the third one for tonight, and stride over to Hope, who’s smile is so big, I’m pretty sure you can see it from the moon.
We stand facing each other, keeping a respectable distance—that is until, she wraps her arms around my shoulders, her chest nearly touching mine. My hands instinctively settle on her hips, and the spark that shoots through my nerves from her warmth almost buckles my knees.
“Are you having fun?” I ask, raising my voice just enough for her to hear over the music.
