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“Great, that’s all I need,” Robert mutters, staring at something over my shoulder.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Kara’s just walked in with Gary and her parents,” he answers. His nose brushes against my temple, and I like how it feels.
“Oh. Well, I doubt she’ll start any trouble with you. You did take down that picture of her, right?”
“Yeah, I took it down, but only because you asked me. I took down those shots of you on the beach, too,” he goes on.
“That’s good.” I nod soberly.
“Fortunately, you never requested I delete them completely, so I can still look at them on my computer,” he tells me brazenly.
“Is your dad good friends with her parents?” I say to change the subject.
“Yeah. Our dads went to college together. Thick as thieves. Do you mind if I turn you so I don’t have to look at her? She’s giving me the evils from halfway across the room.”
“Sure, work away.”
He deftly swings my body around, one hand moving slightly towards my bottom. I hadn’t thought this whole thing through, because now I have to see Kara. Thankfully she’s not giving me evil looks like she’d been giving Robert. That’s one thing I’ll give her props for; she doesn’t fall into the typical stereotype of the girlfriend who despises any women who get close to her ex after the breakup.
“I think she might still have feelings for you,” I whisper to Robert.
“Oh, yeah, why’s that?”
“Because people only act bitchy or angry when they care about something.”
“The only thing she cares about is her wounded pride. She expects me to try and get her back from Gary, when as far as I’m concerned he can have her and her snooty parents. Besides, I’m doing this thing with you now…” He trails off, his eyes intense, and flattens his hand out on my bottom. I just hope Sasha doesn’t see it.
“What is this thing you’re doing with me?” I ask curiously.
“Well, right now it involves getting you out of this dress and letting me put my mouth on you again,” he whispers in my ear, his breath causing tingles to run down my neck.
“And how is that coming along?” My voice quivers.
He pulls back to study me, slanting his eyes. “Hard to tell. I’d say I have a fifty-fifty chance of discovering whether or not you’re wearing the lingerie I bought you before the night is through.”
His words make my heart speed up. “Okay, I’ll save you the bother and tell you that yes, I’m wearing them,” I whisper.
A slow smile spreads across his pretty mouth. He pulls me close and lets out a satisfied sigh, holding me as tightly as he can. “I’m really fucking happy to hear that,” he breathes.
The song comes to a close, and somebody dims the lights as several members of the waiting staff begin wheeling out a huge four-tiered birthday cake. The recognisable notes of “Happy Birthday to You” are sung as Alan gives the room a modest smile and a bow and prepares to blow out the candle shaped into the number 50.
Robert tugs me away from the dance floor and farther into the dark room. His hand cups my cheek as he ducks down to plant a quick, intensified kiss on my lips. His tongue slips forcefully into my mouth, and his hands feel like they’re everywhere all at once. Then everyone’s shouting “hip hip hurray,” and the lights are coming back on. He walks away from me, going to clap his dad around the shoulders and tell him happy birthday.
I make my way back to the table and sit down, still stunned by the level of emotion and need in the way he kissed me. I want to have another glass of champagne to settle my nerves, but I should really wait until we get to Alistair’s. The chair beside mine scrapes back, and I turn to find Sasha plonking herself down into it.
She knocks back half a glass and then settles her gaze on me. She seems contemplative.
“So,” she begins casually, “what were you doing dancing with Rob?”
I purse my lips and pick up a little fancy-looking pastry just to have something to do. “He asked me to.”
“Mm-hmm. You two looked…very cosy. Like you were in a couple or something.” She arches her brow at me questioningly.
I sputter a laugh and shake my head at her. “That’s ridiculous, Sash.”
God, why the hell am I lying to her? I’m just so bloody embarrassed about liking Robert. Admitting it to Sasha would be on a par to admitting I listen to One Direction in secret or something.
She frowns now when she looks at me, and her eyes seem sad. “I know Rob has his charms, Lana. The problem is he knows it, and he knows how to use them.” She pauses and lets out an agonised sigh. “Fuck,” she mutters. “I love that boy, he’s my brother, but I’ve seen him reduce cold hard bitches to broken women. You’re not cold and you’re not hard, and if he ever tried to break you, I don’t think I could forgive him, because I love you just as much as I love him. I’m not blind. I’ve noticed you warming up to him this past week or so. What’s even scarier is that Robert looks at you like he wants to kiss your face off, like, all the time. Please tell me I’m imagining it.”
I pull off a piece of the pastry and stick it in my mouth. “Okay, you’re not imagining it,” I answer, hardly a whisper.
“Say again?” Sasha asks, sitting up straighter now.
“You’re not imagining it,” I tell her louder.
“Ah, shit.” She slumps back down in her seat.
“Look, nothing’s really happened. We’ve just had a few…moments.”
“Elaborate.”
“He kissed me.”
“How very chaste of him. Whatever happened to the two of you being mortal enemies?”
All I can do is shrug. She takes the rest of the pastry out of my hand and shoves it in her mouth.
“What did you do that for?”
“You were irritating me fiddling with it.”
