away one tiger ear hanging limply in front of my face, only to find myself chest to chest with a guy whose brown eyes were sparkling with amusement.
A rush of excitement dashed up my spine and set the hair on the back of my neck on end. He was hot. Really hot.
His broad grin was lined with straight, white teeth. His blond hair, streaked with white, had been cut into a faux-hawk, then tousled into what Kim often referred to as “sex hair.” Colorful tattoos covered his arms, and a couple of silver earrings in each ear matched the rings he wore on several of his fingers…except for the all-important ring finger. His Neil Young concert T-shirt was deliciously thin and worn, and was covered by a sleeveless plaid shirt, one of my weaknesses. His jeans were appropriately frayed in the right places, and it looked like he might have ridden a motorcycle to The Lotus, or at least owned one at home. He resembled a punk version of a certain hot British soccer player, only more cheerful. And exactly my type.
My stomach turned a cartwheel, and my skin warmed beneath his fingers. We matched, which was something I couldn’t say about men very often.
“You all right, tiger?” Faux-hawk Boy asked over the loud music.
“Tiger?”
He flicked at the fake ear that had found its way in front of my face again. “You’re dressed as a tiger. A mighty good-looking tiger, I might add.”
I grabbed the ear, my face heating. “Oh…right. Thanks.”
“Here, let me help you.” He led me away from the rowdy group we’d been standing next to, took the ear from my hand, and carefully reattached it to my hair.
“Thanks again.”
His brown eyes danced. “My pleasure.”
I cupped my hand over my ear. The music was throbbing. “What?”
“I said it’s my pleasure.”
Good Lord, he was attractive. Maybe it was because of his hairdo, or maybe it was because of his wide, unabashed grin. Or…maybe it was because when I looked at him, my gut did impromptu yoga positions. Either way, I liked it.
“Come on.” He took my hand. “I wanna dance before your boyfriend comes looking for you.”
I let him lead me onto the dance floor, yelling, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. His deep-brown eyes crinkled at the edges. “Good.”
We danced for a solid hour, our bodies close, moving to the bone-vibrating music. Every once in a while, he would lean into my ear and say something funny, making my pulse speed up. When I lifted my hair up to cool down, he blew on the back of my neck, and it sent a shiver of excitement down my spine. Occasionally, Kim and Betsy danced over and joined us, excited to see me out on the floor with a man, but I tried my hardest to ignore them as they gave me the “thumbs-up” sign and made kissy faces behind his back.
Once we were good and sweaty, he leaned in close. “Wanna get out of here?”
I looked at him, my eyes wide. I wasn’t ready to go home with the guy. Well, in theory. “I’m here with friends.”
He grinned. “No, not like that…I mean, do you want to step outside so we can talk?”
I sighed with relief. “Sure, okay.”
We walked off the dance floor, prompting Kim and Betsy to stop dancing and stare. When we got outside, the cool night air hit me and chilled my sweaty skin. He stopped a foot in front of me and held out his hand. “Landon Harlow.”
I shook his hand. “Hi, Landon, I’m Violet Murphy.”
“That’s a beautiful name.” Landon didn’t release my hand, and it was creating thrilling tingles up and down my arm.
I looked at him closely. There were wrinkles on either side of his eyes, which made me think he must smile a lot. I loved that. “So, what do you do?”
“I’m a carpenter. You?”
“Hair stylist.”
“That must be why your hair is so great.”
I bit my lip. Flattery would get this guy everywhere with me. “I like yours, too.”
“You’re here with friends, then?”
“Yeah. You?”
“My buddy is in there dressed as a devil.”
“A devil isn’t an animal.”
“He’s dressed as the Tasmanian devil.”
“Oh, I see.”
“It’s kind of lame.”
“No, it’s an animal. But it’s also a cartoon.”
“I consider the Tasmanian devil to be more cartoon than animal,” he said.
I laughed. “There are a lot of costumes in there that look a little cartoonish. I was sitting next to a girl who was supposed to be a goldfish.”
“Oh, yeah. I