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I blushed slightly. “I think tonight might be my first kiss.”
Her eyes widened with excitement. “No way! Alright, we’re making this happen. Let’s find you the perfect guy for that first kiss!”
As we made our way to the dance floor, Claire kept trying to play matchmaker, discreetly pointing out guys she deemed suitable candidates for my first kiss.
But each time, I shook my head.
I didn’t want just any guy; I wanted to feel a connection or an attraction at least.
Claire noticed my reluctance and nudged me playfully. “Come on, don’t be so picky! The perfect guy could be right here.”
I smiled weakly but deep down, I knew she was right.
As the night passed, we found ourselves on our third cosmopolitan, and I could already feel my cheeks turning red.
Rihanna’s “Work” was blasting through the speakers, and I decided to let loose completely. My black short dress flowed around my body as I danced, feeling the music pulsating through me.
Claire danced beside me, laughing and twirling with abandon, and for a moment, I forgot about my upcoming exams, the looming threat of my mama finding out I was here, and my quest for a first kiss.
The energy of the club surrounded us, and I allowed myself to be swept away by the rhythm, abandoning all sense of responsibility in the name of a good time.
Suddenly, two big hands grabbed my hips, and a body pressed against mine.
I turned around, ready to tell off whoever it was, but stopped short when I saw a pair of mesmerizing eyes and a mischievous grin looking down at me. The man was tall, at least 6’4, with light skin, dark hair, and a short beard. Tattoos covered his hands and snaked up his neck.
He wore a black suit with a white shirt, the top two buttons casually undone. His muscles were almost visible through the fabric.
“Hey,” he said, his voice deep with a thick accent I couldn’t quite place.
“Hi,” I managed to reply, my voice wavering slightly.
I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks as his eyes locked onto mine.
He leaned in closer, his hands still on my hips.
“You look like you’re having a good time,” he said, his accent making the words sound exotic.
“I am,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “Just enjoying the night.”
“Good,” he said, his grin widening.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as he moved even closer, his lips almost brushing my ear.
“What’s your name?” he asked softly, his breath warm against my skin.
“I’m…” I hesitated, feeling a bit flustered under his intense gaze. “I’m… Sofiya.”
“Sofiya,” he repeated, his accent wrapping around my name. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I could barely breathe as he pulled back slightly, his eyes never leaving mine. Maybe it was the alcohol in me that suddenly made me brave, but I found myself encircling his neck and stepping closer to him, his hands still resting on my hips.
I looked up at him, his face close to mine. “Where are you from?”
“Miami.”
I laughed and playfully hit his chest. “I knew you weren’t from here! You’re too hot for San Francisco.”
His hands tightened on me as I almost tripped, suddenly feeling very dizzy.
