"So you're starting over?"
"Completely." She tucks a blonde curl behind her ear. "I actually swore off men for a year. No dating, no hookups, no entertaining anyone's bullshit but my own."
"How's that going?"
Her eyes meet mine and hold there for a beat too long. "Ask me tomorrow."
Fuck.
The bar fills up around us as wedding guests trickle in from the ballroom. A group of groomsmen parks themselves 3 stools down and starts doing shots, their voices bouncing off every hard surface in the room. The ambient noise climbs from manageable to miserable in under 5 minutes.
I can’t hearanything. Sable says something, and I miss it completely.
"Sorry?" I lean closer.
She repeats it, but one of the groomsmen bellows "SHOTS!" right as she's speaking and the word gets swallowed whole.
Frustration crosses my face before I can stop it. I feel the muscle in my jaw tick, that familiar clench of irritation that I've been swallowing since I was a kid. I'm so tired of asking people to repeat themselves. I'm so tired of being the guy who misses the joke, who nods along and pretends, who leaves events early because his brain is on fire from trying to keep up.
To my surprise, Sable catches it. Her gaze drops to my cochlear implant for half a second, then back to my face. She pauses, and then she raises her right hand and starts to sign.
You… use… sign?
She’s obviously not practiced in signing, but the fact that she tries is such a huge deal. No woman has ever signed to me on a date. My heart stops beating for a full second.
My teammates learn my signals because they have to. My family signs because they love me. But a beautiful blonde in a hotel bar who just met me, choosing to reach into whatever dusty corner of her brain still holds ASL instead of giving up on the conversation?
I'm staring at her hand like she just performed a miracle.
"Sorry." She flushes. "Was that wrong? I learned some ASL in college. Claire's fiancé is hard of hearing, so I picked up a little. But that was years ago."
“No. I’m just amazed. You are amazing, Sable.” I lean in close enough that my lips are next to her ear. "Are you feeling brave, Sable?"
"I'm supposed to be sworn off men," she says.
"I know."
"This is a terrible idea."
I nod. "Probably."
Her tongue sweeps across her lower lip. "My room is right upstairs. 412."
"I'm in 414."
She stares at me for 2 seconds and then starts laughing, bright and incredulous. "You're kidding."
"Neighbors." I can't help grinning.
"Of course we are." She slides off her stool, barefoot, her gold sandals dangling from one hand. "Walk me to my room, Konstantin?"
I close our tabs and offer her my hand. She takes it. Her fingers are warm and slim between mine, and anyone who looks at us can see exactly what's about to happen from the color of her cheeks alone.
I don’t mind at all.
We walk hand in hand to the elevator. She looks up at me, nibbling her lower lip. I cup her jaw and sweep her hair over her shoulder. She shudders.
"So responsive," I whisper, pressing my lips to hers. She's warm and breathy. The feeling of her mouth against mine does something to alter my brain chemistry.
