Looking back at him, she grinned widely. “Isn’t this fantastic?”
Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips plump and glossy. She wasn’t wearing much make-up—a contrast to the Hanna he had met nearly a year ago—but she still looked stunning. He noticed a few guys looking at her as she pushed her way past them. It was hard to keep the smug smile off his face when he saw their disappointment, realizing she was with him.
He had to admit the band was good. As they launched into their next track, it was like they were casting a spell over the audience, bewitching them as they sang along and danced madly to the music.
The people behind them were still moving forward, forcing Richard and Hanna apart from each other as the wave crashed toward the edge of the room. He grabbed hold of her hand, pulling her back toward him, circling his arms around her so he could keep her safe.
He couldn’t decide where to put his hands. Her waist seemed too familiar, too sexual. If he held on to her hips and felt her ass against him, he was pretty sure he would lose his mind. He settled on the relative safety of her upper arms, trying to keep the fabric of her t-shirt between his hands and her skin. But she was moving too much, grinding her body to the beat of the music. He took a half step backwards, removing his crotch from the danger zone. He didn’t want to be accused of liking the band that much.
Hanna turned her head and tried to shout something to him. The noise of the band, and the calls of the crowd, drowned her words out.
“What?” Two small lines formed between his eyebrows as he tried to concentrate on her mouth.
“I said this is my favorite song.”
“What’s it called?” They were still mouthing words at each other. To try and actually vocalize would have been futile.
“Last Night.” She whipped her head around as the guitarists played the instrumental bridge, the discordant sound of the bassist’s chords jarring against the melodic notes of the lead guitar. The lead singer opened his mouth, his voice a deep echo as his lips moved closely against the microphone, his eyes closed as he sang the words.
The crowd was going absolutely wild, the fast tempo of the track leading them to jump up and down as one. Those unfortunate enough not to join in were starting to panic, feeling themselves being dragged under. Richard moved his arms until they were tightly clutching Hanna’s waist. He didn’t care about his reaction to her body, he just wanted to keep her safe.
Leaning back into him, her hands clutched his arms as they moved together, submitting themselves to the will of the crowd.
It was electrifying.
After the show, Hanna tried to grab a few minutes with the band. It was clear they were on the cusp of something big, and the other journalists there also wanted to get their pound of flesh.
“Are you ready to go?” Richard glanced at his watch. It was nearly midnight. When he picked Hanna up earlier, he’d promised her father he wouldn’t keep her out too late.
“Yes, I think so.” She was still giddy, on a high from the stimulating atmosphere of the gig. He could feel her trembling next to him.
“I guess I don’t have to ask if you liked them.”
“I absolutely loved them, I can’t wait to write about it. I just hope my article isn’t too sycophantic,” she said. They walked side by side out of the hot, sweaty bar, and into the cold night.
Coming to an abrupt halt, they both noticed the change as soon as their feet hit the sidewalk.
While they were watching the band, New York had transformed itself into a Winter Wonderland.
The streets and cars were blanketed with a soft, fluffy layer of bright white snow. The only blemish on the pale landscape was the black footprints of the revelers who had left the concert.
“It’s snowing!” Hanna’s face was bright, her smile wide as she looked up to the sky and saw the over-sized flakes slowly floating their way down to the ground. “Oh my God, Richard, look!”
She reminded him of Ruby with her child-like excitement. She twirled around, her head still raised to the sky. He watched as she opened her mouth, poking her pink tongue out, trying to capture a snowflake on its surface.
/> “I noticed,” he deadpanned. A lifetime of New York winters had somewhat inured him to the pleasures of a wintry storm.
“Aren’t you excited? We can make snowmen and snow angels. You might even get a snow day. Doesn’t everything sound so much better if you put ‘snow’ in front of it?”
“Like snow-bound, or snow-blind?”
Hanna rolled her eyes. “It’s like being in the most beautiful city in the world with Ebenezer Scrooge. Where’s your enthusiasm?” She pulled away from him, running her hands through the snow that had fallen on the wall adjacent to the club.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you. Perhaps the ghost of Christmas Past will help me mend my ways.”
“Or maybe a snowball will help?” Her aim was magnificent. The cold ball hit him right in the chin, breaking on impact, the icy snow dust falling down onto his neck.
He ran toward her, scooping some snow up with his hand from the wall as he approached.