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With drinks in hand he returned to the high-top near the dance floor and found it empty. Setting the glasses down, he looked around and found Claire and Reagan on the dance floor. The DJ was playing a Post Malone remix and they were laughing and having fun. Graham took a long pull from his beer and smiled.
Someone tapped Reagan on the shoulder and she turned, her face lighting up. She threw her arms around a woman Graham didn’t recognize, and immediately went for a second woman a few feet away. Claire didn’t seem to know Reagan’s friends, so she kept her distance and kept dancing among the crowd, unbothered to be by herself.
Just as the thought of joining her crossed Graham’s mind, a clean-cut man in a polo and chinos approached her. He leaned down to speak into her ear, and though Graham couldn’t quite see her face, he figured everything was fine when Claire nodded.
Graham’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he dug it out, finding a message from one of his coworkers asking him to switch a shift. It took him few minutes to check his calendar and reply, and when he looked up, out of habit he searched the crowd to locate Reagan and Claire.
Reagan was still talking animatedly with her friends and Claire was still dancing with Khaki Pants. But as they moved with the music and her body rotated a little, she swiveled her head around to catch Graham’s eye. Her left eyebrow went up and in seconds Graham was moving, his beer forgotten on the table.
Years ago they’d arranged the signal—a raised eyebrow for her, a tip of the chin for him—that meantsave me.
He was more than happy to step in to get Claire away from a guy who was too drunk or handsy, and it had come in handy for him over the years, too. Sometimes he knew within minutes he wasn’t compatible with someone but didn’t know how to politely end the conversation and step away.
Enter the chin dip, and enter Claire.
Tonight, it seemed he was up to bat.
Mentally stretching his muscles because it had been a while since he’d needed to do this, he tightened his jaw and hardened his gaze. With a smile that was anything but warm, he directed a cold glare at the guy as he approached and put himself between them. His arm went around Claire’s waist in a possessive gesture, his hand resting low on her hip.
“Thanks for keeping my girlfriend company, but I’ve got it from here.”
The guy paled and blinked, then took a big step back. “Sorry, man,” he muttered, and disappeared.
“Your hand is on my ass,” Claire muttered, though her voice held a trace of humor.
“Shut up and dance with me, sweetheart.”
The track changed, and Imagine Dragons’ “Dancing in the Dark”flowed through the speakers. A strangely sensual song somewhere between slow and rhythmic, it was an odd choice for a place like this, but Graham went with it. He rotated so he and Claire were face-to-face, and put both hands around her waist, sliding them a few inches higher now that his performance was over.
She gave him a look. “‘Sweetheart’?”
“Seems like a standard endearment for couples.”
“Sounded strange coming out of your mouth.”
“Felt weird, too.”
She laughed and relaxed against him, curling her fingers around his neck. “I don’t know how to dance to this song. Is it fast? Slow?”
Graham pulled her a touch closer and rocked into her with the fluid, electronic beat. Her hips moved with him willingly. “This is probably best to make sure your suitor gets the point. What went wrong?”
“He smelled a little like cigarettes so I asked if he was a smoker.”
Graham tipped his head back and laughed. “You just put it all out there, don’t you?”
“That’s a deal breaker for me,” she said, unapologetic. She shrugged and smiled a little, and his eyes dropped to her lips.
Huge mistake.
His brain immediately reminded him how soft they’d felt moving against his, and the perfect way she’d used her tongue—firm and teasing without being overpowering. Her full bottom lip disappeared beneath her teeth and his gaze darted to her eyes.
She’d caught him staring.
He prepared himself for a set-down or snarky comment, to which he’d reply in equal measure. Instead, she lifted one hand and brushed her index finger across his brow with a frown.
“What happened here?”
It took him a second to catch up. “Just a scratch from biking today.” Reagan and Claire had gone to dinner before they met him here, and the first time she’d seen him after his ride this afternoon was in this dark room.
