Page 8 of The Holiday Hookup List
At some point, maybe there will be enough easiness between us, enough trust, for me to apologize. To explain.
We’re already closer to that point than I ever thought we’d be.
I hear a song come on in the main club and set down my half-finished drink. Rising to my feet, I take her hand.
“What are you doing?” Her eyes are shiny when she looks up at me, but she doesn’t pull her hand away.
I keep my tone even. “Ilike this song.”
She doesn’t say anything, but I catch the ripple of her gorgeous throat as she swallows. Then she nods and lets me help her to her feet.
Back on the dance floor, it’s so packed we can barely do more than sway against each other, but any awkwardness that came up has dissipated. Torres’s ass is pressed tight to my crotch, and I’ve got my arms wrapped around her waist, almost possessively. I half expect her to push me away, but one of her hands grips my wrist, as if holding me in place.
I duck my head, closing my eyes as I inhale the scent of her hair, like sweet coconut and tart lime. I can’t get enough. It’s going to haunt my dreams. In that red dress, she’s like living fire in my arms, and I don’t care that I’m going to get burned.
When the next song begins, she turns to face me and shouts over the music. “It’s too crowded in here. I think it’s time to go.”
Go?My pulse trips, spurring me to act. I ignore the churning in my gut and lean down, my lips brushing her ear as I speak. “Can I take you home? It’s late.”
Even though hundreds of people are pressed in around us, it’s like we’re alone. She stares at me for a long moment, the lights reflecting off the disco ball overhead and glittering in her eyes like twinkling stars. No, like a whole goddamn galaxy.
Then, to my surprise, she says, “Sure. We could, um, finish that conversation.”
I nod like it’s no big deal. “All right.”
Inside, my heart fucking soars.
Chapter 5
Valencia
We collect our coats, but I don’t put mine on. I’m overheated, either from dancing or from the thought of bringing Noble home with me—probably both. On the sidewalk, we run into Noble’s coworker, Rodrigo, who breaks away from a larger group to stand with us. Noble introduces me as his “friend from school,” and I don’t contradict him.This is the girl whose life I made a living hellwould invite a lot of questions I’m sure neither of us feels like answering.
Rodrigo is medium height with tan skin and dark brown waves, and his boyfriend, Bailey, is my height, with light brown skin and glossy black curls. They laugh and brush body glitter off each other while Noble frowns at the rideshare apps. Butwhen Rodrigo shortens my name to Val, Noble is quick to correct him.
“She doesn’t like being called Val.”
“Oop. Sorry, honey. I don’t blame you. Valencia is a beautiful name.”
I wave off Rodrigo’s apology, but the exchange unnerves me. My mom’s name was Valerie, and it made sense for people to callherVal. But the beginning of Valencia doesn’t even sound like “Val.”
It’s also extra painful to be called by my mother’s nickname now that she’s gone.
But that’s not what unsettles me tonight. No, the question rattling around my mind is, how the hell doesNobleknow that?
Rides are scarce, so Bailey suggests a bunch of us split a car back to Manhattan. I do a head count, then catch Noble’s eye.
“Go with your friends,” I say in a low voice. “I’ll take the subway.”
His nostrils flare in annoyance. “Torres, I’m taking you home, and I’m making sure these clowns get back, too. Don’t fight me on this. You won’t win.”
There’s no reason why his irritation should turn me on, and yet here I am, holding my coat to my chest to cover my hardening nipples.
“Well, it appears I am overruled,” I say lightly, and give Noble my address.
I expected Noble’s friends to be a bunch of cocky finance bros, but to my utter amazement, they’redelightful. Rodrigo ruffles Noble’s hair, which the latter permits with a long-suffering sigh. Bailey playfully sings the “Man in Finance” song at Noble, which pulls a laugh from me.
I still haven’t fully decided why I’m bringing Noble home with me. To talk, sure. He seems to have something he needs to say, and I’d rather do it in the privacy of my apartment.
