“It is.” We step up to the bar, and he orders a beer after I ask for a glass of red wine. With our drinks in hand, I walk over to the table set up with lots of finger foods and a whole section that is just dips, cheeses, crackers, fruits, and nuts. I start to make myself a plate, and Dayton does the same. I’m starving, but even normally, I could live off charcuterie, so I fill my plate until it’s almost overflowing.

“Where do you want to sit?” he asks, looking around.

“You don’t have to stay with me. I won’t feel offended if you want to go mingle,” I tell him quietly, but not because I’m not enjoying his company. Actually, I feel at ease in his presence. I just know that he didn’t come here for me.

“Where do you want to sit?” he repeats, like I haven’t spoken, and I look around the covered patio that has filled with even more people since we came outside.

“I know a place.” I lead him down the steps. It’s a beautiful night, and with the moon just a sliver, you can see every star that is out once we get far enough away from the brightly lit patio. For being April, the weather is nice. It’s been this way for the last few days, so there is still a touch of warmth in the air left over after the sun has set.

Walking to one of the oversized lounge beds near the pool, which is lit up a pretty blue that glows in the darkness surrounding it, I kick off my heels and place my wine on the small table. When I take a seat, I stretch out my legs and cross my ankles, feeling my cheeks heat when I find his eyes on the exposed skin of my thighs. I bite my lip, then place my plate on my lap and dig into my food, pretending not to watch as he takes off his suit jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing tattoos that I never would’ve guessed he was hiding under his clean-cut exterior. But I can’t seem to drag my eyes away. There is something compelling about him, magnetic even. And I can’t figure out if it’s because it’s been so long since I have been with anyone or if it’s just him.

“So, tell me about yourself,” he says, taking a seat on the edge of my lounge bed, putting his beer on the ground between his bent knees.