Maeve
He stood only inches from me, his arm outstretched and his fingers gripping my arm. He had a bottle of beer in his other hand, the foam bubbling over the lip of the bottle. He let go once I regained my balance, giving me a sideways smile that showcased a single dimple in one cheek.
He was ruggedly handsome with tanned skin and brown unruly curls that were tucked behind his ears. He was tall, towering over my 5’8’’ frame with ease. I felt hot, a little too hot, as I looked up at him, running my tongue along the inside of my lower lip.
“Uh, thanks,” I croaked, slightly taken aback. He nodded, his eyes taking in my face, eventually meeting my own.
One eye was blue, an icy, glacier blue. The other was steel gray. I couldn’t help but stare.
“Take a picture,” he said, his voice slight
