Josefina erupted with a tipsy giggle, her realization dawning like the first rays of sun after a long night. "Wow, you're like, ridiculously smart," she slurred in admiration, a cheeky grin illuminating her face.
Stretching out an arm, she looped it around Oliver's neck, her movements clumsy with the weight of inebriation. "Bend down a little, would ya? You're like a freakin' skyscraper," she complained, her voice drenched with the dulcet tones of too much beer.
Like a willow bending to the breeze, the usually stoic Oliver dipped his head, accommodating Josefina's attempt to wrap her arm around his neck more comfortably.
Up close, the sight of Oliver made Josefina's smile dopey and lovestruck. "Hey, handsome," she drawled, "you're kinda easy on the eyes, you know?"
"So, do you like it?" he asked, his tone serious amidst the frivolity.
Her laughter was like bells in the night. "Like it? Who wouldn't adore a hot puppy like you?"
In the spontaneity of the moment, Josefina pressed her lips to his, her kisses trailing from his mouth down the line of his jaw to his cheek, each one light as a feather. Her kiss left his cheek damp. His frosty eyes began to thaw into pools of warmth. Turning his head, he caught Josefina's gaze—her eyes hazy with drink, cheeks flushed a rosy hue, utterly adorable in her disheveled state.
Leaning in close, she whispered, "I've got a secret for you."
His curiosity piqued, Oliver murmured, "Yeah?"
"Actually, I’m Anya."
He nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. "I know."
Josefina had once tried to hide a sketch from him, a design that later, when revealed, had people whispering that it bore the signature style of Anya. From that day, Oliver had pieced together that Josefina and Anya were the same person.
But now, as the beer's influence creased her brow, she confided, "But I bet you didn't know I have another name."
"And what's that?" he inquired, intrigued.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Miss Josefina: Nobody's Princess