Page 5 of It Had To Be You

“Dance with me,” Yvonne said playfully as she gripped my arm and led me onto the rug in the middle of the living room. I laughed when she started pulling silly moves and caught her by the waist.

“Easy,” I said, my voice unexpectedly low and gruff. “We don’t want you injuring yourself.”

A small breath escaped her when my arm slid around her waist, her eyes bright with some emotion I couldn’t pin. “Definitely not,” she agreed, her hand coming to rest close to my pectoral. She seemed distracted, just as I had been a moment ago, her eyes on my chest. I frowned, wondering what had her so entranced before I realised it was me. She was distracted byme.

I’d always been a little oblivious to the subtle cues women gave when they were attracted, but I could’ve sworn Yvonne was sending signals. Or maybe it was my own wishful thinking.

“This is a nice shirt,” she said, her hand petting at the material. “So soft.”

I chuckled. “You’re drunk.”

“It’s not my fault I’m a lightweight.”

“Cute, too,” I blurted, regretting it a moment before Yvonne grinned.

“So are you.”

Over on the sofa, Dylan and Ev began laughing at some shared joke. I glanced their way, needing a distraction from how I wanted to capture Yvonne’s lips and kiss her senseless.

“What are you two laughing at?” I asked, peering over at them.

“You’re such a pretty butterfly, Conor,” Ev chirped and I shook my head, not bothering to ask what she was talking about. When alcohol was involved people didn’t tend to make a lot of sense.

“If you say so.”

“He’s more like a panther, a sexy panther,” Yvonne countered and I turned to her, my lips curving in amusement. God, she really was cute. Also, she could compare me to any animal she wanted so long as she thought I was sexy.

I waggled my brows at her. “If I’m a panther, you’re a fox.”

“Rawrrr! Hold on, what sound does a fox make?” She asked and I chuckled.

I could get used to drunk Yvonne. If nothing else she was entertaining. And of course, she tended to touch me a bit more often, like petting the material of my shirt. I wasn’t sure why that turned me on as much as it did.

“Okay, I think it’s bedtime,” Dylan cut in. “Ev, you can stay in my room. Conor, Yvonne’s staying with you, right?”

I stared at him, agape. My friend shot me a knowing smirk and I fought a glower. Yvonne and I had been having fun and enjoying each other’s company, but we weren’t going to jump right into bed.

“What? No. No way,” Yvonne argued, and I couldn’t tell if I was relieved or disappointed by her vehemence. “This house is huge. There must be spare bedrooms.”

“There are,” Dylan said, “but they aren’t made up.”

“You can have my bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch,” I offered.

“No, I couldn’t possibly—”

I held her gaze. “It’s no trouble, I mean it.”

“I tell you what. Why don’t Yvonne and I sleep in Dylan’s room, and Dylan, you can bunk up with Conor for the night. That way everybody gets a bed,” Ev suggested, the voice of reason.

My best friend didn’t look pleased as he shot her a dark look. “Evelyn.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Yvonne agreed, relief in her voice which caused a stab in my gut. Was she really so put off by the idea of sharing a bed with me? Ugh, I needed to cop myself on. Just because she didn’t want to hop right into bed didn’t necessarily mean she wasn’t attracted to me. Dylan sighed, clearly giving up on any ideas of spending the night with Ev.

“I’ll go grab you both some T-shirts to sleep in,” he said, reluctantly.

For some reason, the idea of Yvonne sleeping in anyone’s T-shirt but mine made me deeply annoyed.

“I’ll get one for Yvonne, Dylan,” I blurted and Yvonne glanced at me, looking a small bit curious. Without further discussion, I turned and went to my room, digging out something she’d be comfortable sleeping in. I found a grey T-shirt and closed the drawer.

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