I fanned my face with my hand. “Don’t I know it.”
She giggled. “And you love it.”
“Every second.”
This had already been my best birthday ever. From the moment I woke up to now, and it was only getting better. That was all down to Ben and the way he cared for me. My happiness was his, and he let that be known.
I was falling hard and fast for Ben Wells, and I had no intention of doing anything to stop it.
Chapter Thirty-one
Ben
Playingarugbymatchwhile chubbed up had not been on my bingo card for the year. It had taken all my strength, and not looking at Mazzy…or thinking about Mazzy…or imagining I was catching Mazzy’s scent on the wind, but I got through it.
My girl was gorgeous. Always. But whatever they’d done to her at the spa had turned her into a sultry goddess. Couple that with her sitting among the WAGs, and I was dunzo.
This woman…did it for me. Her hair, cute glasses, and, my god, her tits and ass. And that was just the outside. Her insides were even more beautiful. I was pretty sure there was nothing I could tell her or reveal about myself that would make her blink. Her mind was as open to me as her arms.
That was why I was already half in love with her.
More than half, if I was being honest.
But I wasn’t. It was too soon for that level of honesty.
After I smashed some heads, per Mazzy’s request, I found my girl waiting for me and carted her into the back of a limo. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t let me go down on her, claiming her jeans were too difficult to get in and out of, but then the little fiend got on her knees and sucked me off.
It was…yeah…
Another drop in the overfilling bucket of reasons I was so crazy about this woman.
When the limo rolled to a stop, Mazzy was breathless and smug. Her lipstick smudged, her glasses crooked. She looked so sweet, I almost wanted to say to hell with my plans and call it a night.
“Where have you brought me?”
“Somewhere only we know.” I opened the door, and warm neon light spilled in like we were stepping into a tropical fever dream.
Mazzy blinked. “Oh my god. We’re still in LA, right?”
“Technically.”
The Lava Lounge was a showstopper, complete with a fake volcano that puffed steam every fifteen minutes, tiki torches, and plastic palm trees lining the sidewalk.
Inside was even more of a fever dream. Palm fronds everywhere, a fake waterfall behind the bar, ukulele covers of early two-thousand pop songs playing over the speakers, cocktails in ridiculous ceramic mugs shaped like sharks and volcanoes. And dead center on the specials board: Blue Lagoon, Pago Pago style.
Mazzy gasped. “Ben! What…how…?”
I chuckled, pulling her toward the bar. “There’s a chance I called ahead.”
She stopped in her tracks. “You did this?”
I gestured toward the neon tiki god. “Well, notthis. Just the drink. The rest of it already existed. I only did a little research and found it.”
We grabbed seats at the bamboo bar, and our drinks arrived quickly. They were just as neon blue as I remembered, with pineapple wedges on the rim and tiny paper umbrellas. Mazzy lifted hers, gave me that soft, fond smile that ruined me every single time, and clinked her glass to mine.
“Best birthday ever,” she declared.
“Really? Even though we lost the match?”
