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I glanced at the clock on the wall. “At seven o’clock at night?”
“You never know,” Phoebe said.
Pulling over my second beer, I narrowed my eyes at my sister. “You wouldn’t have joined Screech’s dating app, did you?”
With our similar pale coloring, my sister’s cheeks could get as red as mine and they did.
“You did!”
Phoebe ducked her head. “Well, it’s not often that I’m around so many eligible supernaturals. I figured it’d be good to look around.”
“I bet.” I laughed, but it sounded a bit fake even to my own ears. Not that I wouldn’t be ecstatic if my sister found happiness. I was just jealous. Here I had four guys making flirty eyes and kissing me, but I knew that they weren’t endgame for me. No one was. I’d probably die a lonely old spinster.
Phoebe nudged me. “We aren’t in a Jane Austen novel, you know.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. My words slurred a bit. This local beer had quite a kick if it was affecting me after only a couple of glasses. I wonder if it was magical. Dammit. I should have asked.
“You’re not a lonely dried up spinster at twenty-seven. You have years to meet your soulmate.”
I sighed.
“And don’t give me that nonsense that there’s no one out there for you,” she said. “That guy this afternoon seemed pretty interested.”
“Not really,” I said. There was no way Tripp would be interested, no matter how much chemistry we had. I could steal his magic at any time. He’d hate that.
Our dinner came, and Phoebe and I plowed through it. The chicken and veggies were perfect on a cold fall night. Just as we finished and I downed my third beer—if I was going to get drunk, who better to do it with than my sister—Phoebe’s phone went off.
She grabbed it off the counter and looked intently at the screen. “Delphy,” she exclaimed, “I got a match!” She typed a quick response to whomever had messaged her.
I coughed up a smile. “Let me see?”
A handsome man with a head of red hair filled the screen, and I glanced at the movement tracker on the bottom. “He’s here.”
“What?” Phoebe squeaked, spinning around on her barstool.
I glanced down the bar, and sure enough, her match was sitting at the end of it. “He’s over there,” I said. “You should go say hi.”
“Do you think?” she asked, peering at herself in the frosty mirror behind the bar. She slid strands of her blonde hair behind her ear and licked her lips.
“Absolutely,” I said and ordered my fourth beer. “Go for it.”
Phoebe was up and headed down the bar before I even got the words out. I guess she really was looking for love. Good for her. I tried to watch without being too stalker-ish but they really seemed to hit it off.
The bartender returned with my drink, and I stared into it. I did want to see if anything was possible between me and the aquarium guys. They’d all been so handsome and I . . . There had been that strange connection, strange magical connection. Didn’t I owe it to myself to check it out?
A one-night stand with each of them wouldn’t be bad. I took a swallow of my drink. Maybe with all of them? Heat roasted my cheeks and I drank more. When did I get so wanton? Now I was even starting to sound like an Austen heroine. Wanton. I snorted. What a silly word.
I shook my head and wobbled a little on my stool. I pushed the glass of beer away, it was mostly empty anyway, and stood unsteadily. I should just go home and sleep off my insanity. Down at the end of the bar, Phoebe laughed, her head bent close to the redhead.
She wouldn’t want to go any time soon. But I could hit the restroom and grab a rideshare back to the motel. I dropped my money on the counter and pulled my phone from my pocket. I messaged Phoebe that I was going to go. When her phone beeped, she picked it up and looked back at me.
“Are you sure?” she mouthed.
I nodded and smiled. “All good.”
She gave me a thumbs up and turned back to her admirer.
Then I stumbled back toward the restroom sign. The walls seemed to sway a bit, and I groaned. I really had drunk more than I expected. Passing by some of the restaurant tables, I pulled up short when an older man stood in front of me, blocking my path.
