Simon nodded, but his brow remained creased. Iris knew her friends would never slut shame her—her choice to limit her romantic life to casual hookups was her own and they respected it—but lately, she got the distinct feeling that they agreed with her mother. Just a little. None of them ever said that they wanted to see Iris settled like they were. It was just a vibe she got, but it always made her want to fuck the next willing person she came across. If she was being honest.
She didn’t need to be settled to be happy. Sometimes, happiness meant the opposite of settled. Sometimes, happiness meant a cute, curly-haired person in a crop top whose name Iris was completely okay never knowing.
“You good?” she asked Simon.
“I’m good,” he said. “I’ll hang around for a few minutes. Just shoot me a thumbs-up or something if you’re okay. And text me when you get home, no exceptions.”
“So chivalrous,” she said, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. Then she turned and started walking toward the woman, her shoulders back to show off her boobs, which, honestly, were usually the first things people noticed about her. Well, that, and her red hair—a thrilling combination for most.
Always good for a nice fuck, that Iris Kelly.
Iris’s steady stride faltered, just for a second. She shook off the words she remembered guys laughing over in high school and college, words she’d felt afresh when everything with Jillian went down over a year ago. Because honestly, she was good for a nice fuck.
And she was just fine with that.
She was halfway across the dance floor when the woman turned away from her friend and started walking toward Iris as well. She didn’t get far, freezing as soon as their eyes met.
Iris smiled and kept walking, not slowing down until she reached her target.
“Hi there,” she said when she reached the woman who, for her part, looked like a deer staring down the end of a barrel.
Maybe Iris had read this wrong.
“H-h-hi,” the woman said.
Iris tilted her head, smiled slowly. “You want to dance?”
The woman’s throat worked. She nodded but didn’t budge. Her eyes were as wide as Frisbees, and so light brown they looked almost amber. “I’m Stevie. Shit. I mean, I’m Stefania.”
Oh. She was nervous. That’s what this was and, honestly, it was more than a little adorable.
“Hi, Stevie-Shit-Stefania,” Iris said. “I’m Iris.”
The woman laughed, her cheeks a dusky pink. “Sorry. It’s Stefania.”
“Pretty,” Iris said.
“You . . . you too.”
Iris laughed. Fucking. Adorable. “I meant your name, but I’ll take that compliment.”
Stefania rubbed her forehead. “God. I’m terrible at this.”
“Maybe,” Iris said. “But it’s working for me.”
“Yeah?” Stefania looked so hopeful, Iris’s heart gave a little flutter.
“Yeah. So what about that dance?”
“Sure. I mean, yeah. Yes. Let’s do it.”
“Great.” Iris held out her hand. “This song is—”
“I mean, not do it do it,” Stefania said, twisting her own fingers into a knot.
Iris dropped her arm back to her side.
“I didn’t mean that,” Stefania went on. “I just meant dance. Let’s dance. Not that I’m opposed to doing it doing it, I just. Didn’t want to assume.”
Iris blinked.
Behind Stefania, her friend had both hands over their mouth, watching the interaction in horror.
“Wow,” Iris said. “You really are bad at this.”
“Fuck,” Stefania said quietly, closing her eyes. “I know. I’m so sorry. I tend to babble when I’m nervous and . . . yeah. I’m sure you’re really glad you walked over here.”
Iris pressed her mouth together to keep from laughing. “Weirdly, I am.” Granted, this encounter wasn’t the pheromone-fueled interaction Iris had planned, but she still found herself intrigued. Stefania was beautiful and sexy and a complete disaster. Iris couldn’t walk away now if she tried.
“Luckily,” she said, stepping closer and lacing her fingers with Stefania’s. “I’m very, very good at this.”
Stefania’s eyes widened, a small smile settling on her full mouth.
“Still in?” Iris asked.
“If you don’t say yes, I’m going to shave your head in your sleep,” Stefania’s friend piped up from behind her.
Stefania laughed, then rolled her shoulders back like she was getting ready for battle. “I’m still in.”
Iris didn’t wait for anyone to say anything else. She wanted this woman on the dance floor immediately, so she wove them through the melee toward the back, where it was a little less crowded. She had a feeling Stefania wouldn’t want to be in the spotlight, and Iris didn’t care where they danced.
When they reached a shadowy spot at the edge of the dance floor, Iris spun Stefania around and settled her hands on her hips, pulling her close. For a split second, Stefania froze, but then she inhaled deeply and looked right at Iris.
Smiled.
She looped her arms around Iris’s neck and pushed even closer. Their hips aligned and Iris got a whiff of coffee and something a little cooler—orange blossom maybe. The blend was oddly intoxicating, as were Stefania’s bare arms, the way her hair kept tickling Iris’s cheeks as they moved to the fast-paced song.
Stefania seemed to unlock, throwing her head back, exposing her lovely throat, lifting one arm in the air. Her hips were magic, swirling against Iris’s in a way that made Iris feel the need to either clench her legs together or get this woman alone as quickly as possible. She didn’t want to push Stefania too far—she seemed easily spooked—so she let her take the lead.
And Stefania did. She laughed, her body moving like water as she spun Iris around so she was behind her, front aligned to Iris’s back for a second, before twirling her around again.
“You’re certainly not terrible at this part,” Iris said, tightening her grip around Stefania’s waist.
“No?” Stefania said.
Iris shook her head. “Quite the opposite.”
“It’s easy with music,” Stefania said. Her arms were draped over Iris’s shoulders again, fingers playing with a braid. “I have a context. A purpose. Move your body to the rhythm, that’s it.”
“Are you as adept in bed?” Iris asked, a coy grin on her face. She couldn’t resist. “That has a purpose, doesn’t it?”
Stefania’s mouth dropped open. “Do you usually say exactly what you’re thinking?”
“Hell yes. Life’s too short not to, and everyone will judge you, leave you, or tell you to go fuck yourself either way. So why not?”
Stefania narrowed her eyes at this, studying Iris closely. Then she shook her head. “I’m not really sure.”
Stefania’s breath ghosted across Iris’s skin, and goose bumps broke out along her arms. “You’re not sure what?”
Stefania just shook her head, looking away. Iris wasn’t sure if her cheeks were red from the exertion or from shyness—probably a little bit of both.