Page 7 of Luna Ascending

Something about the voice does funny things to me, and I look up quickly at the most rugged guy I've ever seen. I choke on my drink - it's the guy who was propping up the bar, and he's talking to me.

“I might move you on right now” Liz bites back then, glancing at my deer-in-the-headlight expression, elbows me in the ribs chuckling and excuses herself to find 'one of her dates'.

My heart is beating wildly and I have to take some deep breaths. This is ridiculous, I'm school-girl crushing. I'm genuinely not sure I'm going to manage to get my words out; my mouth feels like dust.

He is utterly not my 'type' – he's outdoorsy, with well toned muscles nestled under a crisp shirt and jeans combo. Not the showy gym-bunny kind of muscles that aren't actually strong, he looks strong.

Oh shit. Am I staring at him like I'm undressing him? The ridiculousness of the evening and the alcohol has gotten to me. If he was doing the same to me, I'd royally tell him where to go. He's not doing the same, is he? I steel myself for a look into his amused face...

“Can I top up your drink?” he reaches for my glass and our fingers touch. We both jerk our hands back and the champagne flute clatters to the floor smashing into hundreds of slivers.

“Oh balls” I exclaim forgetting myself completely “totally your fault – you gave me a shock!”

He laughs, a nice easy sounding genuine laugh, “I'll accept blame, if you let me buy you another? Do you normally store such static?” He shakes his hand ruefully “enjoyable and sore at the same time.”

Then, he grins wickedly “Does touching you always combine pleasure with pain?!”

I feel weirdly charmed and slightly scandalised, although who knows why. It's definitely not the sleaziest thing anyone's said to me tonight. Catching myself I manage to give the bartender a little nod as he hovers waiting for my response on the fresh drink.

“I'm Aaron, Aaron Varg” the hunk of man holds out his hand again. I hesitantly take it. His palm is rough, calloused, like he's not afraid of hard work – it feels nice and cool in mine.

I don't get an electric shock touching him this time, but a delicious tingling runs all over my body. I eye him over the top of my glass, I can't quite believe he's interested in me and not Liz.

“Ahem,” he raises an eyebrow “it's customary at this point you tell me your name too...”

Ah shit. I was too busy appreciating his looks to pay attention. I feel a blush creep up my face yet again. I'm not normally like this with men. I don't do giddy schoolgirl nonsense.

“ Freya,” I splutter out “ Freya Faye”

He holds my hand a little longer than necessary, and my heart beats wildly. His shirt hugs his well defined abs and the rolled up sleeves highlight a gorgeous tan.

I look up quickly to avoid being caught staring again and catch his twinkling eyes. I take a gulp of bubbles and feel them surge to my head.

We take a seat in a corner booth and I'm so close I can smell his muskiness mixed with a fresh pine scent. He has no right smelling that good, without thinking I lean in a little closer to him. He reaches out and brushes my hair away from my neck. It's such an intimate gesture I startle, goosebumps forming deliciously where he touched me.

A very delightful half hour later Aaron frowns at his wildly beeping phone. He excuses himself and steps away to take a call, looking concerned.

Moments later he hurries back, pale under his tan. There's barely time to take in what he's saying about a family emergency before he's dashing away. I mutter an acceptance of his excuse, but he's already halfway across the room.

It's oddly gutting. It wasn't the easy conversation I struck up with Tavey, but hell was there an instant and very physical attraction. When he'd first appeared, looking so self assured, I couldn't help but watch him. It's probably a reaction he gets from any female in the vicinity - heissoul-crushingly handsome.

I was pretty sure he was enjoying himself too once we got talking. I groan in annoyance, just as Liz pops up at my elbow.

She looks pleased with herself. Scratch that, she looks delighted. Liz “matched” with Tavey on the stupid mates-4-life app. She tracked him down in one of the hotel's bars and they'd had a chat. He'd apologised for trying to put some distance between them, claiming he'd been a bit overwhelmed by how much he felt for her so quickly, and her track record with men.

I look at Liz sceptically but she seems pleased with the excuse. She's been weirdly besotted, so I guess it might be mutual.

I glance around, expecting to turn into a third wheel at any moment. Liz sighs and explains he got called away on some family emergency - the exact excuse Aaron just used?!

“At least I have his number,” she smiles “we're meeting up later in the week.”

My face drops. I didn't get Aaron's number. Worse still he only watched the speed-dating, so the app will be useless to contact him. I frown to myself realising he didn't ask for my number either. Maybe he wasn't really interested and I was too busy drooling to notice.

On the bright side I can't remember the last time anyone tried to chat me up, never mind two men in the space of half an hour.

The rich guy, Marc, thoroughly schmoozed me with his elegant charm, and the more rough and ready Aaron set my pants on fire in a way I'm half ashamed to admit, even to myself.

Liz and I chatter nonsense about love, flings and sexy men in a warm alcohol haze right up until I spill out the car and up my crumbling tenement steps. Bed well after midnight... not done this in a very long time!

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