Page 8 of Bi-Partisan

I look, and sure enough, there’s a number scrawled on it in black sharpie. I look over my shoulder to find Eric again, who locks eyes with me and winks again.

Mina snickers again. “Okay, let’s go find a table before your adorable blush goes full tomato.”

“I’m not blushing,” I protest. It’s just warm in this bar. I let Mina pull me away from the bar anyway.

“You were absolutely blushing,” Chloe says once we sink into a small corner booth with a perfect view of the dance floor. “It was cute.”

“So, now that you’ve flirted with a hot bartender, how are you feeling?” Mina asks.

“Definitely not as theoretical,” I say, then take a casual sip of my drink.

After that, the conversation thankfully moves away from my love life. We chat as we nurse our drinks, eventually getting a second round, Mina going so Chloe and I can save our table. And now I’m feeling pleasantly tipsy. Also, surprisingly relaxed despite the nerves I felt leaving my apartment. I’m actually feeling the most relaxed I’ve felt in months. Mina was right. I needed a break.

“Shall we get another round or dance?” Mina asks as she drains the last of her glass of wine.

“I could dance,” I say now that I have some liquid courage in me. I look to the dance floor, partly to see where there’s room, and partly to see if there’s anyone I might be willing to dance with. And that’s when it happens.

My eyes stop on a tall blond, maybe in his thirties. It’s a little hard to make out too many details with how the floor is lit, but from what I can see… well, I thought Eric the bartender was hot, but this man is absolutely gorgeous. Broad shoulders, bone structure that rivals a Kennedy’s, hair that falls perfectly over his forehead and looks impossibly soft. He’s dancing with a girl with reddish hair who’s about half a foot shorter than him, but it doesn’t look like they’re together. The way his hands are resting on her waist high enough to be friendly, it’s a lot like how I dance with Mina when we go out and Chloe isn’t there for her to dance with.

I realize I’m staring, but I can’t help it. This man really is beautiful.

The man stops moving, and his gaze focuses on me. Our eyes lock across the floor like we’re in some sort of movie.

And I can’t breathe. Fuck.

“What?” Mina asks because apparently I must have sworn out loud. Then, she follows my gaze and lets out a slightly teasing, “Oh.”

I barely hear it, though. I barely hear anything, actually. It’s like my brain has filled with white noise. Or maybe that’s just my heart racing, which I can almost feel in my throat. My palms are starting to sweat, and I vaguely feel like I’m going to vomit.

Yeah, the bisexuality is so very much not theoretical anymore. I am 100 percent bi. So much so that I kind of wonder how it took me this long to figure it out because right now, nothing has been more clear. Unless this reaction is unique to whoever this god of a man is. It might be because I don’t think I’ve ever felt this out of kilter over an attraction to someone.

Then the man smiles slightly, and yup, I’m a goner. But somehow, I manage to respond. I lift my drink to the man in a gesture I hope looks casual and chill, then take a sip through the cocktail straw. I hear Mina splutter a laugh next to me.

“I don’t know who this new version of my best friend is, but I have never been more proud of you,” Mina says, beaming.

“More than when he got elected to congress?” Chloe asks.

“I said what I said.”

But despite Mina being proud of my move, I wonder if the move was a little too obvious or over the top, especially since the man stares at me for a moment. But then he twirls the redhead into the arms of another man with brown hair and glasses, who catches her slightly awkwardly.

“Oh, damn, I think he’s coming over here,” Chloe says.

Yup, he definitely is.

Oh God.

Chapter 4

Adrian

Song: Closer – Tegan and Sara

I didn’t plan on picking anyone up tonight. In fact, the plan had been to have a few drinks, let Sophie use me as a human shield against unwanted attention while we dance for a little while, then duck out just after 10:00 p.m. because I have a shift at the clinic tomorrow. Until I saw him, one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen, watching me.

He has brown hair that’s just a little bit messy, like he’s constantly pushing it back from his face but never bothers to actually style it. It’s a little too dark for me to tell what color his eyes are, but they’re wide and expressive as they stare right at me. Even in the dim lighting, I see his high cheekbones are tinged with an adorable blush. I can’t help but wonder what that flush would look like spread over the rest of his smooth, pale skin.

He’s sitting at a table just off the dance floor with two women—a brunette with golden bronze skin and a pale blonde with streaks of pink through her hair, who I assume are a couple based on the way the brunette has an arm wrapped around the other woman. They’re watching me, too, but I don’t really focus on it. This man has every bit of my attention.

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