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“People you want to see?”
“Precisely.” When she laughed, really laughed, usually at herself, her cheeks would almost hide her eyes. Joy burst from her. She was… beautiful.
She made everything beautiful.
“It’s been difficult being so far from my friends, but we message all the time and call when we can. I always knew I’d move away after university, but it doesn’t mean I don’t get lonely sometimes.”
“I can relate. Emilia and I don’t go more than a few days without talking. I miss her, but I’m doing exactly what I always wanted, and I know she’s happy for me.”
“That’s how I feel.” She leaned closer. “I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else right now.”
“What else do you want to do?”
“Mmm? You mean in the future?” She looked longingly at her empty glass. “Christ, I don’t know. I usually don’t think that far ahead.”
“I wish I could stop worrying about it. What happens next. What if I’ve made the wrong choice? Taken a wrong step? I don’t miss writing spec, but I’m also sick of writing for other people. Being the guy who rewrites the rewrite wasn’t what I was hoping for when I first sold.” That first sale had felt incredible. These days, fewer and fewer specs were finding homes, and he wasn’t keen on going back to the backbreaking anxiety that came along with it. “That’s why I’m here. It’s the last obligation on my contract, and then I’m free to write what I want.”
“What do you want to do next?”
“Not make a mistake.”
He retreated to the minibar, the conversation veering too close to vulnerable for his comfort. It had been far too long since he’d opened up to anyone. Hayley lowered his defenses like no one else.
He pulled out two small bottles of tequila and returned to the couch, holding one out to her. She hesitated briefly, then uncapped the bottle and knocked it back in one go.
Guess he wasn’t the only one on edge.
“And just so you know, I haven’t seen anyone since that night.”
He reached out and brushed the hair off her shoulder, pushing aside the drape of her sweater, watching as goosebumps rippled out across her bare skin.
Even over the sounds of Nat King Cole, Harrison could make out Hayley’s sharp intake of breath.
“Dance with me.”
Hayley bit her lip, indecision written on her face.
This was probably a bad idea, but he didn’t want to listen to reason right now. “What are you afraid of?”
It was the right thing to say. Heat and challenge rose up to meet him, her dark eyes locked on his. “Your two left feet, mostly. I wouldn’t want to mess up my pedicure.”
“I’ll step lightly.” He curled his fingers, beckoning her.
Hayley slipped one hand into his, the other dancing along his neck, sparking electricity under his skin. Yep. This was a terrible, fantastic idea.
Her lips looked so much softer up close.
“Do you need me to lead? I know how bad you are with directions,” she joked when they hadn’t moved.
Damn, he’d gotten lost in her again.
“Only when I don’t know where I’m going.”
Her lashes fluttered. He spotted a fresh cluster of freckles across her nose, so faint most would probably miss them. They could only be seen from an intimate distance. Practically kissing.
They were his new favorite thing.
He lifted his hand, brushing over them with his thumb. “But I think I’m exactly where I need to be.”
