Just Three Words (Soho Loft Romances) by Melissa Brayden Read Free Book Online Page A

appeal. While Sam looked on, Libby and her friends danced, laughed, danced some more, and once in a while returned to Sam’s neck of the woods for a quick drink before tearing up the dance floor once again. These people could seriously party.
    But the smile she kept on her face out of peripheral enjoyment was fading. By standing on the sidelines, she was missing out on the fun. Once again, she was on the outside looking in. Story of her adolescence.
    Time for Plan B. She decided to pep talk herself. What would Suze Orman say? She would tell her to get her ass on the dance floor and live a little, that’s what. And maybe take out an IRA.
    “I’ll have whatever he’s having,” she shouted to the bartender, pointing at the frat guy next to her downing a shot of purplish liquid. Purple meant grape, right? She loved grape. She tossed the drink back and oh my God, it burned like crazypants on its way down. Not grape. Not grape. Not grape. How did people do this? Good God. Didn’t matter. She’d done it.
    Relying on her newfound liquid courage, Samantha headed onto the dance floor and joined the group.
    “Sam’s here,” one of the guys yelled, prompting the whole group to loudly cheer as they bumped and grinded and worked the dance floor like it was their job. The song was fast paced and loud, but Sam didn’t care. She joined in, tossing her hands in the air and moving her hips subtly. Then Libby’s hands were on her, and they were dancing together under the colorful strobe lights. And what could be better? The more she danced, the more her inhibitions floated away on the wings of a nice purple drink sent from the magical land of Deceptively Fruity Alcohol. She might or might not have been on beat, but the subtlety fell from her movements and she danced for all she was worth. She stepped on a toe here or there, but no one seemed to care. They were all out there together having the best time. They sang to the music at the top of their lungs and let the pulsing bass wash over them completely. All that mattered was the here and now.
    And she was part of it.
    She was present.
    The night had just turned fun.
    As the group cheered her on, she moved from person to person, dancing, laughing, and feeling like she owned the night. After what seemed like forever, she danced her way back to Libby, taking her hand and pulling her into the corner.
    “I love that you’re having a good time,” Libby said in her ear above the pulse of the music.
    The word love , while not the operative word in the sentence, snagged Sam’s attention. Because she was falling in love with this woman and all that she brought to Sam’s life. She wasn’t ready to say it to Libby yet. There’d be time soon enough. Maybe over a quiet dinner next week. Some romantic lighting. Champagne. And the three words. I love you. Perfection.
    “I am having a good time,” she told Libby. “The best, actually. This was a good idea.”
    Libby kissed her then and she sank into it. “And you’re not still upset about the film festival?”
    At the mention, her spirits dipped, but only a tad, as she thought about Brooklyn, Hunter, and Mallory watching one of her favorite flicks without her just across town. “I wish we could have done both, but you make sacrifices when you’re in a relationship.”
    Libby looked thoughtful, distant even. “You do, don’t you?”
    “Enough with the philosophical talk. Let’s dance like crazy people.”
    Libby laughed. “Party-time Samantha is cute. I hope I get to see more of her. Let’s get back to it.”
    And they did. They danced well into the morning hours, inhibitions thrown to the wind. It was a rarity for Sam. And you know what? It was one of the best nights she could remember having. She’d let go and it had paid off. Plus, she had Libby by her side. What more could a girl ask for?
    *
    Please no hangover , were the first words that drifted into the forefront of Samantha’s mind when her eyes fluttered open on Saturday