Because of course there’s only one person who would raise eight million alarm bells and be more than enoughcause for hightailing it out of here. I keep my back to him, instead watching the faces of May, Ben, Justin, and Tom as they watch the moment unfold. May looks worried but also a little self-satisfied, and the guys all wear matching gleeful expressions, like they know something good is about to go down. At my expense. Traitors.
Ben nudges my shoulder, spinning me around to face Seth.
Seth, who is not alone.
Seth, whose eyes meet mine and don’t let go for a solid minute. And when they do, they travel down to the deep V of my dress.
A throat clears.
“Oh. Shit. Sorry.” Seth puts his arm around the woman. “This is Jessica.”
And oh my fucking god. This is his date. He’s on a date. Maybe even a second or a third date. And he brought her here. To the bar. Where I’m supposed to be kissing a stranger.
What the actual fuck.
I plaster on a Joker-like smile. “So nice to meet you, Jessica. I’m Lana.”
Her eyes widen a little at my name, but she just shakes my hand with a soft smile on her equally soft-looking lips.
“Wait! That’s where I know you from.” Ben smacks his forehead. “You’re writing that article series,” he says to me. “And you’re her challenger,” he says to Seth.
“And would you be the guy she’s going to be kissing?” I never actually had a dad around to question the boys I dated, but Seth sounds exactly like what I always imagined.
“Dude, we’re literally all gay.” Justin says this like it should be obvious.
Seth’s eyes cut to mine. “You were going to kiss a gay guy for your task?”
I shrug, reaching back for my margarita and taking a long swig, pretending I didn’t hear a twinge of hope in his question. “You got a fish.”
Ben’s eyes, which have been darting back and forth between Seth and me like we’re engaged in some kind of Ping-Pong match, widen to the point of ridiculousness. “I’ve been following your columns ever since that disaster of an Instagram Live video you guys did. I can’t believe the two of you used to date!” He turns to Seth. “Wait, is she the one you wrote about in your first article, the one who broke your heart?”
“Um, no!” I protest with more than a tinge of a whine. “I most certainly am not.” I gesture to Seth, urging him to clear the air before things get even more awkward and embarrassing and I lose my built-in backup kissers.
But Seth doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t confirm Ben’s assertion, but he sure as fuck doesn’t deny it either. Instead he just runs a hand through his hair, looking like he wishes he were anywhere but here.
Which is his own damn fault, because no one invited him here in the first place.
“Um, would anyone care to fill me in on what exactly is going on here?” Poor Jessica. She looks lost and confused, standing as close as possible to Seth, even though he dropped his arm from around her shoulders nearly the second introductions were done.
“Yeah.” I thrust my chest out and try to look imperious, focusing on indignation so I don’t have to think about Seth’s words—or lack thereof. “What are you even doing here?”
The color still hasn’t completely returned to his face, and a grimace seems permanently attached to his lips. “You pointed it out the other day on the bus. It looked like a fun place and we had a date planned for tonight, so here we are.”
My eyes narrow, because that feels a little too convenient.
May leans into our little circle. “Wait. You brought your date to a bar that yourexpointed out to you?”
“May,” I hiss under my breath, punching her at the same time for good measure.
Jessica’s face falls. “Maybe I should go.”
No one says anything for a minute. I wait for Seth to protest, to tell her to stay, or better yet, to agree to go with her, but he just keeps staring at me, like he’s trying to impart some silent message only I can understand. Only, I don’t understand.
“This is bullshit. I have a mission to accomplish.” I turn back to the bar, gesturing for Ben and Justin to help me up. I clamber my way to standing on the bar in a manner so ungainly the Coyote Ugly team would weep.
“Parker, what are you doing?” Seth reaches for me, as if to help me down, but I ignore him.
Once I’m stable on the bar, I turn to the room at large. “Are there any straight guys out there willing to kiss me for like a minute or two?” I yell the words at the top of my lungs, and though there is no literal record scratch, there’s mostdefinitely a metaphorical one. The silence that follows is long enough to border on insulting, but to be fair, I think everyone is just as surprised and confused by my proposition as I feel.
