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It makes me wish I’d chosen a different dress. The red doesn’t really go with all this gold. Something blue or black would have looked better.
“Tia, oh my goodness, you came. I’m so glad.” Clara grabs me into a hug, her gold dress shining as brightly as the decorations.
“Wow, Clara, you look incredible. I can’t believe you’ve put this all together.”
“My dad arranged it for me, to say congratulations and all that. He’s really excited about me graduating.”
“I’m sure he is,” I smile, wishing I had parents who could be proud of me, too.
“Where’s your man?” Clara asks, glancing around.
“He’s just getting us some drinks.”
“Come and find me later and introduce me. All the girls keep talking about how freaking hot he is. I have to see for myself.”
I laugh. “Will do.”
The other students around me are laughing, shouting and taking shots of—you guessed it—gold tequila.
When a tray of shots comes past me, I grab two of them, then push my way through the crowd towards Yefim.
“Here,” I grin, handing him one of them.
“Oh, we’re starting with the tequila. You’re asking for trouble with this.”
“Maybe I’m looking for trouble,” I say, glancing up and down his gorgeously sculpted physique. The black suit he’s wearing hugs his body tightly; custom made for him, as all his suits are, it accentuates every muscle and his beautiful broad shoulders.
He notices me staring for too long.
“Do you want to go find a dark corner and make out?” he asks with a chuckle.
“Wow, you haven’t even had a tequila shot yet and you’re already trying to take advantage of me.”
“I’ve been trying to take advantage of you since the first day I saw you. The tequila is only going to make it worse.”
I hold my shot up towards him. “Well then, here’s to a fun night.”
He grins, then throws his head back, taking the shot.
I pull a sour face as the alcohol burns down my throat. Even expensive tequila still tastes like tequila.
“Ugh,” I say, sticking my tongue out.
Yefim laughs at me. “You don’t like tequila?”
“I love it. I just don’t like drinking it,” I giggle.
He hands me my gin. Strawberry, with a red slice on the edge of the glass.
Glancing up and down my body he says, “Amongst all the gold, you are the rose that stands out, catching everyone’s eye.”
I press my lips together to try and hide how massive my smile is, but I fail. How does he know exactly what to say all the time?
I hold my hand out for him to take. “We’re going to the dance floor,” I announce, then pull him along with me, not waiting for him to reply in case he protests. Some guys just don’t like dancing. But I love dancing, and it’s my graduation party, so he has to like it too.
It turns out that Yefim is a damn good dancer.
Fuck.
