She giggles and we both stand there for a few minutes, looking at one another, wondering who will make the next move.

“Too cool to dress up,” she gestures her hand at my T-shirt, athletic shorts, and sneakers.

“No, I missed the memo.”

Tanner laughs, “If he had known this was happening, he would have never agreed to come out.”

The girls look at each other and back at us. “Oh man, bad pickup lines, and you’re no fun,” Poppy says with a wink.

“I am fun,” I argue. “Tanner’s just pissed I kicked his ass in ping-pong earlier.”

This girl is a little infuriating, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t love it. She laughs, and we are at a standstill again, both waiting for the other to make their move. I hear Tanner say something off to the side, and the blonde answers. I’m too busy trying to figure out the girl standing in front of me. Notonly is she beautiful, but she’s confident and has no problem giving me a hard time. I think she may be the girl of my dreams. The music switches, and the Macarena plays over the speakers in the bar. The dance floor to our left fills with people dancing in unison. I scoff.

“Don’t tell me? You don’t like to dance?”

“It’s not one of my many talents.”

She leans forward, putting a finger to my chest. “See, you aren’t any fun. If you were, you would pull me onto the—” Maybe it’s the beer I’ve been drinking, or maybe it’s because her tone feels like a challenge, but without thinking, I grab her hand and pull her towards the dance floor.

She laughs and lets out a little scream as we run to join the group of dancers. I remember the dance from when I was younger, but I’m admittedly terrible at it. To my relief, she is dancing in front of me and can’t see how bad I am at this. When we get to the part where we have to move our hips, someone in front of her falls, pushing her back and into me. She doesn’t stop dancing and instead grinds her hips into my crotch, making my cock strain against my shorts. We turn with the group and separate again. She attempts to help me, but I’m a lost cause now, very distracted by her ass that was just rubbing up against me. When the song ends, she drags me back to the bar where our friends stand laughing at us.

“See, I am fun,” I say, trying to catch my breath from laughing.

“You may be a little fun,” she teases. There is another pause while I try to figure out what to say.

“You a basketball fan?” I ask, nodding towards the TV.

“Oh, no, not really, I go to Farrington University and saw they were playing tonight.”

Shit, how young are these girls?

“You’re in college?” I take another long sip of my beer. My face must show what I’m thinking.

She lets out a little laugh. “Oh no, I’m not in undergrad.I’m in grad school there. You can relax. I’ll be twenty-seven in a few months.”

The tension in my shoulders eases and I let out a breath.Thank fuck, she’s not twenty-one.“What are you studying?”

“No, no, no talking about school tonight.” Lacey swings around and orders four tequila shots. She passes them out to the four of us. “You know the deal, babe. Talk about school, and everyone has to take a shot. Sorry, that topic is off limits until tomorrow.”

I see Poppy roll her eyes, and we all throw the shot back. I fucking hate tequila. I make a mental note to keep the conversation off school, especially if Lacey is around to hear.

“Could you take a picture of us?” Poppy asks, handing me her phone. The girls pose, and I snap the photo.

I keep my eyes locked on hers. “Absolutely, beautiful.”

Her cheeks turn a soft shade of pink, and she grabs her phone. “You’re getting better at this.”

The music shifts, and Savage Garden’s “I Knew I Loved You” begins to fill the bar. “Dance with me?”

“I thought you didn’t dance?”

“I said I can’t dance. I never said I don’t dance. It takes someone special for me to show off my two left feet.”

She smiles and takes my hand as I lead her to the dance floor. I pull her into my body. Her arms wrap around the back of my neck, and her head rests on my chest. Her fingers mindlessly play with the hairs sticking out around the base of my hat and I let my hands settle on her lower back. The scent of oranges and champagne surrounds me. It’s bright, just like her. We sway to the music, bothspeechless.

“You nervous?” she teases, lifting her head. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

“What can I say?” I move a piece of her hair behind her ear. “You’re doing all sorts of things to me tonight.” Her eyes lock on mine, and she studies my face. For a few moments, while the song plays, my focus is solely on her and hers onme, like the rest of the bar doesn’t exist. I don’t know where this is headed, but for the first time in a year, I want to figure it out. Her tongue dips out of her mouth, wetting her lips.