Page 90 of Hexed Up

“You didn’t,” I say, thinking he seemed pretty coordinated when we were dry-humping on my sofa, and his tongue was definitely coordinated down there in the games room.

“I told you I was hopeless at football at school.”

“But you were really good at all those sports at the hotel.” He shrugs. “Did no one ever teach you to dance?”

“They tried to at school,” he says. “My stepdad,” – he pulls a face – “even suggested I get lessons when I got my first banking role. Said I’d need it for all the black-tie dinners.” He shrugs again. “I like the way I dance.”

I smile at him. “I like it too. It’s really entertaining.”

He lifts his middle finger up at me, and I grab his hand and twirl a couple of times underneath it.

“If you want, you can just keep still and I’ll dance around you.”

“No way. I told you. I like dancing.”

I laugh, and it reaches right the way down to the very bottom of my belly, and I realise I haven’t laughed this freely or felt this happy in forever.

My laughter only seems to spur him on, and soon he’s challenging me to a dancing contest, throwing out ever-increasingly chaotic shapes that I try my best to match. We shimmy across the dance floor one way, shuffle across it the next, and then he’s attempting to teach me the Running Man.

“Oh my goodness!” a shrill, haughty voice says as I’m almost doubling over with laughter. “What are you doing, Horatio?”

I find Tasha Pasha Gnasha scrutinising Horatio’s current dance moves in a haughty manner. I don’t think she approves.

And maybe I, the fake girlfriend, am not enough to put her off Horatio, but maybe his dancing will be.

Horatio halts his crazy moves, and stands there panting, adjusting his collar and brushing the locks of hair from his face.

Clearly it isn’t enough to put Tasha Pasha Gnasha off, because she bats her fake eyelashes in his direction.

“Oh my goodness, Horatio. Everybody was watching. People could actually see what you were doing. Have you lost your mind?” She snorts a piggy little laugh.

He shrugs, although he does look a bit uncomfortable, as if he’s suddenly become aware of himself and his surroundings, and is a little embarrassed by his actions.

“I thought we could do the cake,” she says. “Simon’s got to leave soon. He has that international call first thing in the morning, and Dina and Adriana have to get back to the office to finish those calcs. They’re all dying to taste the cake.”

“Right,” Horatio says, smoothing down his hair and letting Tasha lead him over to the cake table.

My sponge has been well and truly shoved to the back of the table, hidden behind the magnificent chocolate creation, nowspiked with a giant candle that hisses, spits, and sparkles like a small firework when Tasha lights it.

Unfortunately, it’s not a candle Horatio can actually blow out, and he’s forced to just stand there and admire it, everybody else doing the same and oohing in appreciation.

My best friend slides up beside me as Tiggie comes to stand on the other side of me.

“What’s going on?” Damien asks as Tasha lifts a glass of fresh champagne and declares, “I’d like to make a little toast to our very good friend, Horatio Shaw.”

“Birthday cake,” I whisper to them both.

“Where’s yours?” Tiggie says loudly, pushing through the people in front of her to get a better look at the cake table. “You made a cake too, didn’t you, Molly? That’s what Damien said.”

I try to hush her, because honestly, no one needs to see my cake when there’s this one here. But my attempts to quieten them do not deter my drunken sister and my trouble-loving best friend, who both start chanting loudly, “Molly’s cake! Molly’s cake! Molly’s cake!”

Tasha clears her throat, taps a sharp fingernail against the side of her glass, and when this doesn’t work, throws a look that could kill in the direction of Damien and Tiggie. Honestly, how is this woman not a vampire?

“I’m trying to make a toast here,” she says snottily, as if the two of them are wayward children – which, to be honest, they’re acting like.

“Mwah mawah hwam,” Tiggie says, intimidating her voice and making a very good impression of Tasha as she wags a finger in her direction.

Tasha tosses her head and harrumphs.