Page 13 of Wrong Number, Right Grumpy Biker

During a lull in conversation, Hannah picked up her phone and typed something quickly before setting it back down on the table.

My phone buzzed in my jacket pocket.

Hannah: Your best friend told me he notices me. What does that even mean?

I stared at the message. She still thought she was texting Everett. Two days in and she hadn't noticed. I could have said something at any point.

But I wasn't going to. Not tonight.

Me: Probably means he notices you.

Her phone lit up. She grabbed it immediately, her fingers flying across the screen.

Hannah: That’s not helpful.

I bit down on a smile and typed back.

Me: You could just ask him.

Hannah huffed out a breath, shooting me a glance that suggested Everett was being annoying. I pretended to pay attention to the speeches beginning at the front of the room while waiting for her response.

Hannah: Fine. Don't help.

I enjoyed this. The private exchange happening while surrounded by dozens of people who had no idea what was going on.

Me: He’ll be there all weekend if you change your mind.

She read the message and bit her lip to keep from smiling.

James approached during dessert, catching Hannah near the bar where she'd gone to refill her water.

I watched from my seat as he leaned against the counter next to her, his posture casual but his positioning deliberate.

"Remember that wedding we went to in Charleston?" His voice carried enough that I could hear him. "You got so drunk you tried to teach the flower girl how to do shots with apple juice."

Hannah laughed, but it sounded forced. "I wasn't that drunk."

"You were exactly that drunk." He studied her with the kind of familiarity that came from years together. "Grim's not your usual type."

"I wasn't aware I had a type."

"Come on, Hannah. A biker? You're overcompensating."

"For what?"

"For wanting to prove you've moved on."

I stood and crossed the room before Hannah had to defend herself any further.

"Ready for that dance you promised?” I asked, ignoring James entirely.

She gave me a smile that obliterated every single one of my defenses. "Yes."

I offered my hand, and she took it without hesitation.

The DJ had started playing slower songs as the evening progressed. I led Hannah onto the dance floor and pulled her close enough that her body pressed against mine.

"I expected you to sway in one place and growl at anyone who got too close,” she murmured.