My heart flip-flopped like a dying fish. “Gotta agree with you, Mazz. My best days are with you.” I tucked her hair behind her ear. “Wish I could’ve spent more time with you today.”
“I do too, but I’m not going to complain. You sent me to the spa, got me front-row seats to your game, and nowthis. If you’d done more, I don’t think I could’ve handled it.”
I puffed up my chest. “Ididdo a lot, didn’t I?”
That got her to laugh. “Shut up and drink your blue drink.”
I grabbed it off the bar and held it up. “Cheers to Mazzy Belle’s frontal lobe finally reaching maturity.”
Laughing harder, she clinked her glass against mine. “Hopefully, we can cheer for the same thing on your birthday.”
I threw my head back and cackled. “I wouldn’t count on it.”
The blue drinks went down easy. Too easy. Before we knew it, we’d each had two, and the tiny square of available space in thecenter of the bar was beginning to look more and more like a dance floor.
Mazzy and I were given fake flowers by the bartender. She carefully tucked them behind her ear and mine, whispering I looked awfully pretty. I wasn’t really a flower guy, but if my girl wanted me to wear one on her birthday, who was I to say no?
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s dance.”
Mazzy blinked, her eyes a little hazy. The drinks seemed to be affecting her more than me, but that was no surprise. I was a full foot taller than her, and the last time she’d been drunk had been with me five years ago.
Her brow crinkled. “But there’s no dance floo—oh my god, is this a reggae version ofToxic?”
“Maybe? If I say yes, will that get you up and dancing?”
She let out a happy little squeak and hopped off her stool, her hand disappearing into mine. We made our way to the tiny, sticky patch of bamboo flooring, and I settled my hands on Mazzy’s hips, pulling her close.
She swayed against me, loose and warm and laughing. “I’ve never been dancing.”
“This doesn’t count,” I murmured into her hair. “I’m going to take you out to some place with a real dance floor when we’re home.”
Her head tipped back, her eyes searching mine. “What if I want this to count?”
My heart did that dead fish thing again. “Then it counts.” I kissed the tip of her nose, and she scrunched it so adorably, I had to kiss it again.
She pushed up on her toes so she could circle her arms around my neck. “God, you’re so hot, Benny. I know everyone thinks that, but believe me, I think it the most.”
I groaned. How could one woman be so cute and breathtaking all at once? “Same goes for you. Everyone notices how stunningyou are, but I’m fully fucked by the way you make my heart stop whenever I see you.”
“Wow, that’s so nice.”
She tucked her face against my chest, humming along to the ridiculous ukulele intro. We danced through two more tropical covers, her body molding to mine, her necklace catching the neon light with every shift. We laughed and sang to each other. Whispered soft words and bits about our day. She shimmied and twirled. I did a little of my striptease routine, minus the stripping. Then she wrapped her arms around my middle and pressed her cheek to my chest, sighing happily.
Finally, she tipped her head back, breathless. “Ben. I’m tipsy.”
“I noticed. Think it might be time to get back to the hotel.”
“I think you’re right.”
Fortunately, the ride back to the hotel was short. Mazzy spent it mostly on my lap, steadying me with her solid weight. She stroked my neck and sobered a little, asking me about my meeting with my agent. I told her he had something brewing—probably an endorsement—and was working on my next contract. She listened and asked questions. We talked about the game today and our chances of making the playoffs.
As we pulled up to the hotel, she whispered I’d made her life better and she really hoped I didn’t leave. That she believed that was a possibility, even for a second, was a blast of frozen air.
“Jesus,” I muttered, grabbing her around the waist and hauling her into the elevator. “Come here.”
The doors slid shut behind us, and she was on me instantly—mouth soft and eager, hands in my hair, necklace pressing into my sternum as she rose onto her toes. I backed her against the elevator wall, swallowing her little moan as her fingers fumbled at my shirt.
“We’re not doing this in here,” I whispered against her lips.
