And I need another fucking drink.
Now that dinner is over, speeches are finished, and the party has started, I can breathe a bit easier. Lowesy is having the time of his life, Penny is dancing up a storm, and everyone seems to be in a remarkably good mood.
I even want to punch Reno less, so that’s a win.
I’m halfway to the bar when the pretty blonde in the baby blue dress slides directly into my path. I halt, cocking a brow, my near-empty drink pleading with me to be refilled.
“Hi, Wedding Date,” Ari says smoothly.
“Plus one,” I correct.
“Get a drink with me,” she says, and it’s not a question, so I can’t decline. There is no avoiding her. She’s everywhere and I’m hanging on by a damn thread, hoping that ‘everywhere’ eventually places her directly in my way. We head to the bar and she’s the one who orders. “Whiskey and Coke and a vodka martini, please. Extra dirty.”
The bartender nods.
She taps her white fingernails on the bartop and then turns to me. I stare at the dancefloor instead of her face because I have to. I fuckinghaveto.
“Are you having fun?”
“Yeah,” I say, dipping my chin. “Are you?”
“I have a good table,” she says, but there’s an edge in her voice. I don’t know if she’s referring to being seated with Lemmy or being seated with Reno, who I’ve now decided I hate again. Either way, I don’t love that answer.
“That’s good,” I say, keeping it short and sweet. I am an idiot, so I glance down at her. I see nothing but softness and resignation in her eyes. Don’t like that. Harder to ignore than shameless flirting. Then, I say something fucking stupid, becauseI’mfucking stupid. “What were you and Rossi talking about?”
She pauses and then breaks into a wicked smile. “Boston Black, are youjealous?”
“No,” I grumble.Yep.“But he’s known to put his dick in stupid places, so just be careful.”
“I’m not going to sleep with Reno.”
I shrug, like I don’t care, even though a wave of relief washes over me. I might care. Just a tad.
“I only have eyes for big, bearded defensemen with spectacular green eyes,” she continues, sipping her martini. “Extra points if they’d rather stab themselves in the eyes with a fork than give me any attention.”
I exhale a long breath through my nose and shake my head. She’s ridiculous and very, very wrong.Alwaysso damn wrong.
“What?” she says innocently. “Is it not true?”
“You know that it isn’t true,” I mumble, thanking the bartender as he hands me my drink. “So, stop fishing.”
“I’m not fishing, I’mflirting,”she tells me with a beaming smile. “There’s a difference.”
It takes everything in me not to smile back at her. She makes it so hard. She’s fucking captivating, and she’s definitely one of the funniest people I’ve ever met. How do you not laugh at the funniest person you’ve ever met? With little quips like that, I want to volley a comment right back at her to keep this game going, but Ican’t.
She is off limits.
I can’t.
“Ease up, sweetheart,” I tell her, a warning in my eyes, but I keep myself in the game anyway because I think I’d collapse if I took myself out at this point. “You look fucking great, and the whole place knows it.”
That satiates her. I see the way it adds fuel to her fire, giving her the energy to keep pushing with me, just like I’d hoped.
Do I know what ‘off limits’ means? Yes. Do I remember that definition when we’re making eye contact? No.
“It wouldn’t hurt tohearit, though,” she gently pushes.
I shoot her a look. I just said it outright, and she still wants more. “You’ll have to hear it from somebody else.”
