Chapter Six #2
Finn’s lips twitched. “No idea if you mean that as a compliment or an insult.”
She tilted her head, long dark hair spilling to one side. “Does it have to be one or the other?”
“So where are you guys headed?” Finn asked.
“Ferris wheel,” Priya said promptly. “We’re going to watch the fireworks from up there.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” Finn said very seriously. “I heard a story of a stray firework hitting the top of the Ferris wheel once and…” He made an exploding gesture with his hands.
Mel cocked one eyebrow. Sexy. Really fucking sexy. “Is that so?”
“Absolutely. Or maybe the guy operating the Ferris wheel got distracted by the fireworks. Either way, I’m pretty sure you’re risking your lives if you opt for that right now.”
Mel looked as if she was trying not to smile. “And I take it you think salsa dancing is the safest option?”
“Celtic salsa dancing,” Finn corrected. “And yes. Much safer.”
“I take my primary school kids on the Ferris wheel,” Priya said dryly. “It is most definitely not dangerous.”
“Priya’s a teacher,” Mel elaborated. “She’s very sensible.” Priya elbowed Mel in the ribs at this, and Mel grinned at her. “I mean it as a compliment. I’m sensible too.”
Priya muttered something under her breath, though Finn was pretty sure it was along the lines of, “Not right now you’re not.”
“Well, okay, they might be safe enough for kids during the daytime, but we’re talking about lethal fireworks here.
On top of moving machinery. In the dark.
” He gave Priya a meaningful look, considered it a win when she snorted a laugh.
It had taken about six months for Priya to fully warm up to him—she’d been skeptical, she told him later, of his easy—and terrible, according to her—pick-up lines.
But now Mel wasn’t the only one who had been a little sad when she’d decided to move to the other side of the world.
Priya and Mel exchanged some kind of look, communicating in that way only best friends can, which ended with Priya rolling her eyes. “Fine. Bring on the salsa-dancing Celts.”
Mel linked her arm with Priya’s just as Mark arrived, producing four ciders—having correctly guessed that Finn would have convinced the two girls to join them by now.
Mark gave him a that didn’t take you long look, which Finn chose to ignore as they headed through the throbbing crowd to reclaim their sister.
The sister who, despite the fact they’d literally abandoned her in chaos less than thirty minutes ago, was never subjected to these looks.
Presumably because she was the youngest and therefore allowed to be irresponsible, for another few years at least.
It took them surprisingly little time to find Hattie, because she was dancing in such an exuberant way that the crowd around her had parted.
Hattie greeted Mel and Priya with hugs like they were all long-lost friends reunited, and Mel and Priya immediately got stuck into the dance Hattie pulled them into.
Which was another point for them, because most people would have been completely terrified.
He’d tried to shout at Mel over the music, asking where she was from, what she was doing here.
But after one too many WHAT? s, he gave up and just danced, spinning and jumping to the music, none of them remotely attempting to salsa.
He was so aware, the whole time, of how Mel moved, not quite in time with the music, but like she didn’t give a shit about that.
He was relieved when they finally found themselves next to one another, when he had an excuse to take her hand, twirl her.
She laughed again, and he felt irrationally pleased. “Been taking salsa lessons from the Celts, have you?” she asked.
“Oh, absolutely. I’m a total expert, as I’m sure you can tell.”
She waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Pff. You’re playing with the big leagues here, sweetie.
” She immediately went into a ridiculous robot dance, combined with some kind of sashaying of her hips.
He wasn’t sure, then, whether it was the atmosphere, the alcohol, or just her that made her so brilliantly unselfconscious.
Later, he’d figure out it was a bit of all three. He burst out laughing, and she grinned.
Next to them, Mark was hovering on the outskirts of their group, glued to his phone again, and Hattie was now draped over Priya. “But I love him,” Hattie was lamenting. “I don’t know where he’s gone and I’m pretty sure he was the one.”
“He did seem very nice,” Priya said, lips twitching as she patted Hattie on the back. “What’s his name? I’ll help you find him.”
Hattie pulled back to stare at Priya. “I don’t know.” It was a wail. “How will I find the love of my life if I don’t even know his name ?”
Mel grinned again at Finn, who rolled his eyes. “My sister, ladies and gentlemen.”
“Does she fall in love with strangers often?”
“Sure. For about an hour.”
“And you?” Mel asked, a touch of slyness to her tone. “Do you fall in love with strangers often?”
“Only those who beat me in dance-offs,” he said, very seriously. Her eyes were dancing as she met his gaze, and he felt his pulse jump at the base of his neck. Jesus, she was hot. It was something about the directness of her gaze, he thought. The curve of her mouth when she smiled.
The band switched, playing the opening bars to “Auld Lang Syne,” and the crowd went wild.
Everyone linked arms, Hattie forgetting about the love of her life as the countdown to New Year’s started.
They were all singing, only knowing about a third of the words, and as Finn spun around with Mel she stumbled.
He reached out to steady her, placing a hand on either side of her shoulders.
Ten, nine…
Mel hadn’t pulled away. She was watching him, expectantly.
So of course he kissed her. He didn’t even wait until the end of the countdown.
It was light, and surprisingly chaste, given the atmosphere around them. Like a stolen kiss in the night. She tasted of something sweet, along with the tang of alcohol—and something deeper and darker and totally her. Something that sent an unnerving jolt of electricity right through him.
When they pulled back, neither of them was smiling, and her expression had changed to something considering. He’d wondered if she’d felt it too. Fucking hoped so. His grip on the sides of her arms deepened, and when she reached out, laid her own hands on his forearms, goosebumps prickled.
Then fireworks erupted overhead, and Mel let out a surprised laugh, craning her neck up to look at the color lighting the sky. She looked back at him, and there it was again—the sparkle.
She smiled—warm and beautiful. “Happy New Year, Finn.”
“Happy New Year, Mel.” And he had a feeling—it was going to be a good one.