Page 5 of One More Shot
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 palm as I pull back. ‘It’s nice to meet you.’
‘Likewise.’ His grin widens even more, 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’snowhere 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?’
‘Something a little slower than this. What about you?’ I ask. ‘How come you’re out here all alone?’
‘I was actually just about to head out. I only came as a favour to a friend – he’s the promoter for tonight – but I’m not a big dancer, so this isn’t really my scene.’ He looks me up and down again, and then his grin morphs into a small smirk. ‘Glad I stayed, though.’
‘Oh, really?’ I ask, feigning confusion. ‘Why’s that?’
He chuckles, like he can absolutely see right through me, but is more than happy to play along. Anothertick. ‘Just met a gorgeous girl, and I’d like to see where things go.’
I pretend to giggle and duck my head to disguise my eye-roll.
Dane speaks with the well-practised charm of someone who has said that exact same line about a hundred times before. There’s no hesitation in anything he says. No fear of backlash or rejection. It’s like he’s got it down to a science and he knows exactly what he needs to say and when to have me fawning over him.
He’s gotplayerwritten all over him. Not exactly my usualtype personality-wise, but his confident gaze sends a shiver down my spine.
The music blaring inside morphs into something slower. I don’t recognise the song, but I catch Dane’s eye and give him my own well-practised, sultry smile. Dane isn’t the only one who knows what he’s doing. ‘Come on. I love this song.’
He doesn’t protest, just threads his fingers through mine and lets me drag him back onto the dance floor. I quite like that. How he’s happy to defer to me and let me lead, although it’s clear that he’s usually the one in charge.
Another tick for Dane.
I pull him to a stop in the middle of the dance floor and press my back up against his chest. He’s tall enough that he has to crouch slightly so I can wine my waist against his, but he doesn’t complain. Instead, he brings his hands down to my waist and pulls me flush against him.
He wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t much of a dancer. His movements are slightly awkward, like he can’t quite catch the beat no matter how hard he tries, but he seems content with letting me guide us.
He drops his head onto my shoulder. ‘Where’d you learn to move like this?’
I laugh as I roll my hips to the beat. ‘It’s not hard.’
He hums, his grip on my waist tightening slightly. ‘Maybe you’ll have to teach me. Do you do private lessons?’
I have to hand it to him; he moves very fast, and I’m not mad at it.
‘Is this your game?’ I ask, tilting my head slightly so we can make eye contact. ‘Pretending that you can’t dance and asking forprivate lessonsback at some girl’s place?’
‘I’m not pretending.’ He grins, and there’s that dimple again. ‘But let’s just say it is my game. Is it working?’
The song switches and I pull away for a brief moment, only to spin around so I’m facing him. I loop my arms around his neck and he resettles his around my waist.
‘Maybe,’ I lie. Because it definitely is working. All I need is the Sasha Seal of Approval, and then Dane is coming home with me. ‘Tell me more about you.’
‘Dane. Twenty-nine. Business owner. Allergic to bananas. Terrible dancer. Great at…’ He wiggles his brows. ‘…Other things.’
I snort and roll my eyes. ‘Ugh. And you were doing so well. I’ve never met a guy who said something like that who could actually live up to the hype.’
He drops his eyes to my lips. ‘You’ve never met me until tonight.’
Fair point.
‘Your turn. Tell me more about you,Eliott.’ He says my name slowly, like it’s something to savour.
I pretend to think my answer over as I look around the room, desperate to spot Sasha and get her thoughts on him.‘I’m twenty-seven. I’m a photographer – weddings specifically. No allergies that I know of. But I really hate tomatoes.’
