Page 14 of Time Bomb
“Is it okay,” she scoffs. “It’s perfect.” Dragging her phone from the pocket of her romper dress, she snaps a photo.
“Who are you sending that to?” Though I already know the answer.
“Torque, of course. He’d love this on you.” She is determined that we hit it off. I believe we already have. A minute later, my own phone dings.
Hot Firefighter: Did I miss plans for a date tonight cause you are smokin’.
I roll my eyes at his corny joke. I kind of love it.
Me: Girls’ night.
Hot Firefighter: That’s too bad. You’re dressed too sexy for a taken woman.
Biting my lip, I debate my response before settling on one word.
Me: Taken?
Hot Firefighter: Fuckin’ very taken. You slept in my bed last night, Philly, you’re off the market.
“He is so like his brother,” Laken giggles as she reads the texts over my shoulder. “You need to play with him a little,” she encourages, and I have a feeling I’ll be paying for it later.
Me: Hhmm it’s been two dates, didn’t know that meant commitment…
Lord, I wouldn’t mind it, though.
Me: Gotta go, girls are here.
Adding in a couple of kissy faces, I go to pocket the phone when I notice he’s sent a final message.
Hot Firefighter: You’re playing with fire Philly.
“Ohhhh, he’s totally going to make a very public claiming now,” Laken says, grinning ear to ear as she greets Peyton and Hope.
Grenadine is every bit as swanky as Laken described. It’s the perfect blend of intimate atmosphere in the restaurant and hopping club on the dance side. With a mix of fusion-style foods, we order an assortment of appetizers that the four of us share. I’m more drawn to the spicy Thai bites than any of the others.
As another round of drinks is delivered—virgin white peach bellinis, this time—the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I get the feeling of being watched. Spinning around, I search for the source of my contention, but nobody stands out.
“Everything okay?” Hope, sitting beside me, asks, stress lining her face.
Scrunching my nose, I don’t wish to worry her or the other girls, but I can’t shake the feeling. “I’m not sure. It feels like someone is watching me, but maybe I’m being silly.”
“Do you want me to call Reed?” Her hands fidget with the stem of her glass.
Draping my hand over hers, I reply, “It’s fine, Hope. I promise.” Pasting on my best smile, pushing the bothersome thoughts away, she nods at my reassurance and relaxes again.
From Peyton, I’ve learned that Hope struggles with reading emotions, so she feels the need to be alert all the time. Ignoring the sensations crawling up my spine, I take a sip of my drink, savoring the sweetness before grabbing a carrot stick and dipping it in the bowl of Santa Fe ranch in the middle of the nearly empty platter.
“Shall we dance?” Laken asks, practically wiggling out of her seat.
With our food being mostly eaten and having already taken care of the bill, we grab our drinks and head over to the dance side of the club.
Laken snags us a small table off to the side that has enough room so we can dance near it and remain close to each other.
“Lavender Haze” by Taylor Swift blasts through the speakers, and for the first time tonight, I’m dying to cut loose.
I toss back the rest of my drink and grab Hope’s hand, dragging her a few feet away and begin swaying my hips to the music. With her hands in mine, she starts to mimic my movements before closing her eyes, and the more we move, her body relaxes. I twirl her around, and we become giddy as I almost lose my balance.
One song turns into two, then three, then Peyton joins us. We remain in our little circle, dancing and enjoying the music, when I feel a heated body at my back, and hands drop onto my hips. Pushing them off, I attempt to step farther away from whomever it is when they approach again. Their hold a little firmer, and their voice sending chills down my spine.