The tension in my chest eases a little more with each step I take away from her. Or maybe it’s because of whom I’m walking toward.
Loren bobs her head to the music, her grin growing when she sees me coming.
Probably best not to overanalyze. “Hey.”
She drags her glasses down her nose to waggle her brows over the plastic rims. “Sweet moves, Travolta.”
“Very funny.” I wasn’t even dancing. More like…swaying awkwardly. “I was going to ask if you were hungry but if you’re going to make fun of me?—”
“Me? Make fun of you? Never. Also, I’m starving and the smell from that BBQ truck is making me swoon.”
Me too. I’m going to demolish a pork BBQ sandwich. “Come on then. My treat.”
Loren practically skips next to me, but then she stops. “Don’t you want to ask your date?”
“She doesn’t want anything.”
“You sure about that? From the way she was grinding on you, it looked to me like she wanted an Elliott sandwich.”
See? This is how you hold a conversation. Give and take. Ebb and flow. Maybe Loren could give Tamela lessons. Although I’m still not sure I’d want to get to know her that badly.
Everyone is counting down, shouting and laughing, but all I can do is stare at Loren in those glasses, my jacket hanging off her thin shoulders.
She has a boyfriend, dumbass. Stop gawking like you’ve never seen an attractive woman before. My gaze drops but only makes it as far as her lips. The gloss she applied a few hours ago is long gone. Those lips of hers are bare and smiling.
“Happy New Year!” erupts around us but all I can hear is my thundering heart. My feet think it’s a good idea to bring me a step closer.
Abort.Abort!
I must be a fucking superhero because I manage to turn away, only to find Tamela blinking up at me with fireworksreflected in her pale blue eyes a split second before her hands fly to my cheeks and she smashes her mouth to mine.
The force knocks my hat clean off.
I’m so stunned, I don’t even have time to close my eyes.
When my gaze meets Loren’s, pink stains her cheeks. I know I probably shouldn’t do it, but I hold her stare a beat too long before screwing my eyes closed and kissing Tamela while imagining my date tasting like peaches instead of stale beer and cigarettes.
Imagining the sequins beneath my hands are black instead of neon pink.
Fuck. Okay. Who knew all I needed to feel attracted to Tamela was to pretend she was someone else?
I should probably pull back before things get out of hand. Get my head on straight. Banish these thoughts back from whence they came.
Don’t ask me how Tamela ended up with her legs around my hips, but as I ease her back to the ground, my gaze finds Loren’s once more, like a ship lost along a dark shore, searching for the lighthouse to warn them of impending danger.
Loren’s tongue sweeps across her own lips, and part of me wonders if she’s imagining the same thing.
“You need a New Year’s kiss!” Tamela shouts at Loren. My neighbor opens her mouth, presumably to protest, but Tamela takes that as an invitation to stamp her lips over Loren’s.
And I thought her cheeks were pink before. This time, her blush goes all the way down her neck, disappearing under my jacket’s collar.
Loren stumbles back, giving Tamela a jittery smile.
The moment Tamela turns toward her next victim, Loren swipes a hand across her mouth.
Drink.
That’s what I need to wash away the disgusting taste clinging to my tongue. Our gazes catch, and I nod my chin toward Tamela spreading the love to another guy. “You know, if it doesn’t work out with the boyfriend, maybe you can get her number.”
