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I turn around and act like I wasn't looking, leaning against the bar. I can feel the heat of her body as she comes up next to me, standing too close, our elbows almost touching.
"Hey, stranger," she says, nudging me slightly. "Avoiding me?"
I look down at her. She's so short that she shouldn't be so damn intimidating--but she is. "Of course not," I say. "Why would I be hiding from you?"
"Because you don't want the reporter asking questions," she says with an innocent smile. "I get it. I'm pretty intimidating."
I snort. "You don't scare me, Hart."
"Is that so?" she smirks.
I nod, taking a swig of my beer. "Yeah, I'm not easily intimidated. Remember--I'm a big, buff hockey player?"
"Well then," she says, leaning closer to me. "Maybe you should do something to impress me."
I raise an eyebrow, my heart hammering in my chest. "Like what?"
"Like dance with me," she says, grabbing my hand and pulling me onto the dance floor.
I'm not the best dancer in the world--turns out being graceful on the ice doesn't translate to the dancefloor--but I can hold my own--and it seems like Birdie can too. We move together, her body pressed against mine, and I can feel the heat coming off of her.
It's like the air around us is charged with electricity, and I can't help but feel drawn to her. We dance to a few songs, our bodies moving in sync, and I can't help but feel like this is exactly where I should be right now.
Eventually, the music slows down, and we're left swaying together to some slow, romantic ballad. Birdie looks up at me, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. "You're a good dancer," she murmurs.
I feel my cheeks flush. "Thanks."
She leans in closer, her lips almost brushing against my ear. "You know, I was kind of hoping we would end up alone together tonight," she whispers.
My heart skips a beat. "Yeah?"
She nods, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I've been thinking about you a lot since our interview the other morning."
"Is that right?"
She bites down on her lower lip, her gaze never leaving mine. "That's right, Johnny," she says, reaching between us...
...for her purse.
From which she pulls a notebook.
"I even brought my notebook," she says, clicking the pen she pulls from the spiral spine.
I let out a laugh, scrubbing at my hair as I pull away from her.
"Damn, girl," I say. "Buy a man a beer first, huh?"
"Sure," she says. "Let's go. Right now."
"It's an open bar," I say, raising an eyebrow.
"I didn't mean here."
I give her a stern look. "Here," I say. "And no interviews tonight? Everything I say outside of a specific interview context is off the record."
She grins, slipping the notebook back into her purse. "Deal."
Chapter five
