“Rude?” Camille arched a brow at me. “You’re lucky he didn’t punch you.”
My top lip quirked up in a smile. “Thought your ears weren’t working.”
Her nose crinkled at the bridge. “I tried.”
“And failed?” I shook my head as I grinned at her, unable to be angry at her when she looked so fucking cute. I surprised myself by reaching up and rubbing the tip of my pointer finger between her brows in an attempt to erase the frown.
Her eyes were as wide as the moon as she looked at me, and because I saw way too much in them, I dipped my chin and shifted focus.
Reaching for my phone, I pulled it out and sent Conor a text:
Me:Got a name.
Conor:Coullson sang?
Me:Like the sparrow he is. Ainsley McKenna.
When he didn’t reply immediately, but I saw the two ticks indicating he’d seen the message, I tucked my phone away and asked, “Mrs. O’Donnelly, would you like to dance?”
She blinked at me. “We’re not going straight home now your business is done?”
I knew my eyes were twinkling as I stared her up and down. “And waste that dress?”
Her grin made me feel like I was being blasted by the sun after a lifetime of being in the dark, and because that was way too fucking poetical for a Friday night, I decided to stop thinking and to start doing.
When she held out her hand for me, I snatched it up and together, we headed onto the dancefloor and we danced until dawn.