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“Got your eye on anyone?”
I’m pretty sure Sasha hasn’t told him the extent of my bedroom troubles, but Wes has never once judged me for cycling through partners and has even offered to set me up with a friend of his once or twice. I’ve always declined, too afraid that my inability to orgasm might start to get round our circle of friends, but I’ve always appreciated the offer.
Sasha and I point out the few people we’ve spotted so far, and Wes wishes me luck and kisses Sasha again before he has to return to his set.
“Alright. Game plan,” Sasha says as we move through the crowd again and head to the bar. “We’ll get some drinks, and then start working the room. Give us an hour, and you’ll be dragging someone out of those doors and into your bed. How’s that sound?”
Itsoundsgreat and, in theory, it should be.
In practice? Not so much.
Turns out, the girl with the long braids is in a relationship and they’re looking for a third. Her partner is equally as attractive as her, but the one threesome I had a year or two ago didn’t do anything for me and it’s not an experience I’m eager to revisit.
Green Eyes is inexplicably already far too drunk by the time we reach him, despite the event only starting an hour or so ago. The other guy Sasha spotted checking me out seems promising at first, but he keeps calling meEllie– a nickname I’ve always loathed – even after I ask him to stop, and any thoughts of heading home with him dry up relatively fast.
We can’t find the guy with locs she spotted when we first came in, but we do see a few mutual friends about two hours in and agree to momentarily drop the plan for a while to just enjoy the night and dance with them.
It’s fun for a while, but then Wes takes the music into an upbeat dancehall segment and the dance-floor is suddenly filled with sweaty bodies gyrating against each other. I don’t mind dancehall, but I’m more of a soca girl myself. Sasha, however,lovesdancehall. She’s standing directly in front of the decks, putting on a show for Wes like they’re all alone and not in a packed warehouse somewhere in East London.
I consider asking her to come with me, but she looks like she’s having a good time (and Wes is definitely enjoying the show) so I leave her to it and step outside to get some air.
The small outdoor space is mostly empty aside from a few smokers in the corner and a tall guy leaning against the nearest wall. He’s standing directly below a light, and the warm amber glow illuminates him against the night sky.
And fuckme. He’s hot.
Warm brown skin, a defined jaw covered in just a little bit more than stubble, thick brows, full lips, and chin length locs pulled into a messy bun with a few strands falling in front of his face.
I wonder if he’s the guy Sasha caught checking me out earlier. I hope so.
He pays me no attention, his undivided gaze on the phone in his hands, as I inch further into the space. He’s wearing a shirt with the first few buttons popped open and I get a glorious glimpse of a well-defined chest.
Sasha’s not here, but Mission:Big Ois officially back in action.
I casually lean against the wall, leaving enough space between us that it’s not awkward, but also not so much that he can’t ignore my presence. His thumbs stall against his phone, and I feel a little thrill shoot through me as his gaze slides in my direction.
I pretend to look through my purse, giving him a moment to unabashedly look me up and down. He must like what he sees, because he stuffs his phone into his pocket and clears his throat.
I glance up at him and raise a brow, like I’m not sure why he’s bothering me.
He grins and,wow. It’s a very nice smile. Slightly lopsided, but warm and friendly. The kind of smile that makes you want to smile right back. I don’t, though. I keep my expression a careful balance between wary and intrigued, not wanting to play my cards too early.
“I was hoping to bump into you.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop a pleased smirk from spreading across my face. Hewasthe guy Sasha saw. “Do we know each other?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.
“Not yet.” He takes a bold step towards me, closing the tactical gap I’d left between us. “But we can fix that pretty quickly.”
He’s hotandhe’s smooth. I give him twotickson my mental checklist.
“I’m Dane.” He sticks out a hand.
I pretend to hesitate for a second, and then reach out and grab it. “Eliott.” I linger for a beat too long, letting my fingers trail slowly along his as I pull back. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” He grin widens, showing off a dimple on his left cheek. “You’re not into dancing?” He nods over his shoulder back to the still heaving dance-floor. Sasha’s nowhere in sight and, since she hasn’t messaged me, I can only assume that means she’s gone behind the DJ deck with Wes.
I shrug. “Just waiting for the right song.”
He shoots me a curious look. “And what song would that be?”
