Page 85 of Almost Ours
She was on the dance floor with Nina, both of them holding their drinks, swaying to the beat. Harper’s blonde hair shimmered under the lights, laughing at something Nina said. I couldn’t stop watching her, mesmerized by the way she seemed so free, so vibrant.
Eventually, they came back to the table, flushed and laughing. “Have you guys gotten your picture with Santa yet?” Harper asked, setting her empty glass down and looking between me and Shane.
“Picture with Santa?” Shane scoffed. “What are we, ten?”
Nina rolled her eyes. “Come on, it’s tradition.”
Before I could protest, Harper grabbed my arm, dragging me toward the makeshift Santa setup.
The four of us squeezed into the photo area, making goofy faces as the photographer snapped the picture. I stood beside Harper, slipping my arm around her waist. She stiffened for a second, letting out a quiet gasp, and I couldn’t help the grin tugging at my lips.
When we returned to the table, the mood was relaxed, the alcohol loosening everyone up. I kept stealing glances at Harper. She was glowing, her cheeks rosy from the wine and the warmth of the room. Our eyes met across the table, and for a moment, the noise around us faded.
I tilted my head toward the door, a silent question hanging between us.
She bit her bottom lip, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and gave the slightest nod. “I’m going to use the washroom,” she said casually, standing up.
Nina started to rise too, but Harper shot her a look and then glanced at me.
“Oh, never mind,” Nina said, sitting back down. “I don’t actually have to go.”
Shane smirked. “What’s that about? A psychic bladder?”
Harper disappeared toward the far hallway, and I forced myself to stay in the conversation at the table for a few minutes, though my mind was elsewhere. When the timing felt right, I stood up. “I’m going to grab a drink refresh. Anyone want anything?”
I didn’t wait long for an answer, slipping out the same door Harper had used. The hallway was dimly lit, the sounds of the party muffled behind me. I walked slowly, scanning the corridor.
One of the bathroom doors creaked open, and Harper’s head poked out, her gaze darting around. She didn’t seem to see me at first, then her eyes landed on me. Without a word, she grabbedmy arm and yanked me inside, shutting the door firmly behind us.
I barely had time to process what was happening before she turned the lock with a click. The air in the room felt immediately charged.
I took a breath, but it didn’t help. She was standing just inches away, her back to the door, her cheeks flushed pink, her chest rising and falling too fast to be calm.
“Harper–” I started, the word dying in my throat when I really looked at her.
The dim bathroom light caught the shimmer of her dress, the wild softness of her hair, the way she was chewing on her bottom lip like she was trying to keep herself from doing something reckless.
Or maybe from not doing it.
I took a step toward her, the soft hum of the music and the chatter from the party fading into nothing. My hand rose on instinct, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed for half a second, like even that was too much.
“That dress,” I murmured, my fingers lingering near her cheek. “Harper, you look incredible. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you all night.” My voice dipped lower, filling with unrestrained desire.
A cheeky, playful smile curved her lips, and she tilted her head.
I stepped in, closing the distance until the scent of her–sweet vanilla and something uniquely her–wrapped around me. My hand stayed on her cheek, thumb brushing the soft skin there, and I let my gaze fall to her mouth. Her breath hitched, her own eyes flicking down to my lips like she couldn’t help it.
I didn’t move closer. Not yet. I just stood there, silently waiting, giving her every chance to step back.
She didn’t.
Instead, she leaned in, so slow it made my pulse pound, until there was barely an inch left between us.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for weeks,” I whispered, my voice rough enough that it almost didn’t sound like mine.
Her lips parted, her eyes locked on mine. “Then what are you waiting for?”
That was all it took. I reached for her, sliding my hand to the back of her neck and pulling her in gently, slowly–like I needed the moment to last. Our foreheads brushed. Our noses bumped. And then her lips found mine. They were soft, warm, and as she melted into me, pressing her body against mine, my head spun.
