Page 28 of Lucky 22

“And seriously, how impressed are you with our girl here?”she goes on. “Did she do a fabulous job in this movie or what?”

Before the poor man can answer, Ava’s talking again.

“Listen, you need to work the room a bit. I want there to bepictures of the two of you all over the place tomorrow.” She takes a step backand studies us. “You’re gorgeous together. Absolutely and completely gorgeous!People are going to both hate and love you because you’re so adorabletogether.”

I try to get her to maybe ease up a bit, but she’s alreadydoing another round of air-kisses before disappearing into the crowd.

Christian looks a little dazed, and I feel like I need toput his mind at ease. “She’s only like this at events, I swear.”

“That was…wow. She’s a lot.”

“I know. I know, and I’m sorry. If you want, we can leaveand—”

Taking my hand in his, he just holds it. “We’re not goinganywhere. Apparently, we need to work the room so people can love andhate us.” He chuckles. “I’m not exactly sure what that means, but I think wecan pull it off.”

Tilting my head, I stare at him and wonder if I need toexplain it or if he’s teasing. “How do you feel about doing a little gushingwhile you’re plastered to my side?”

He’s instantly beside me, one arm banded around my waist,his hand resting on my hip, and his breath is warm against my ear. “You arefabulous. I’m thinking Academy Awards.” Pulling back slightly, he winks,clinking his glass gently against mine. “What do you think, will that work?”

“It’s a little over-the-top, but…I like it.” I kiss hischeek without thinking. His freshly shaven skin is so smooth, and his naturalscent is intoxicating. It makes me want to linger and simply inhale.

But I don’t.

Instead, I pull back as our eyes meet. I feel like we’reasking a dozen questions without saying a word, and for a moment, the rooftopcrowd seems to fade into the background.

Why did you kiss me?

Can I kiss you?

If we work the room fast, can we leave?

Do we have to work the room?

Someone bangs into me as they walk by, breaking the moment,and I realize that there’s been a photographer taking photos of us canoodlingthis whole time. Ava is standing behind him and gives me a wink as if saying, “Goodjob.” I look at Christian, completely embarrassed, but he seems to take itin stride.

“Come on,” he says, leaning in close to my ear. His breathis warm, and it makes me tremble slightly. “Let’s mingle and see what’s on thebuffet. I think I saw someone with pizza, but maybe it was wishful thinking.”

And, just like that, we’re laughing again as we step awayfrom our little spot and face the crowd. Then, almost as a unit, we join themand do our best to be fabulous.

It’s late.

I don’t even know exactly what time it is, but I know it’slate.

We stayed at the party for longer than I thought we would,but we ended up having a great time. We ate a little, drank a little—fun fact,neither of us drinks alcohol, but we both enjoy a good mocktail—and danced andschmoozed like we were supposed to. Christian’s dancing was a bitquestionable, but I love that he was willing to get out on the floor with me.

After we left, we stopped at an ice cream shop and split asundae because I was dying for something sweet. There was dessert at the party,but honestly, I was ready to leave and go someplace with just the two of us.

“I finally remembered what I wanted to ask you the othernight,” he says after scooping up some ice cream.

“When we went out Monday night and were at the stadium, youmentioned how twenty-two was your favorite number, remember?”

I nod around a spoonful of whipped cream.

“Were you on a flight to LA about two months ago?” he asks,seeming a little hesitant. “And were you drawing the number twenty-two on apiece of paper?”

My eyes go wide. I can’t believe I didn’t put it togethersooner. There’s been this feeling like there was something familiar about himsince I first saw him at the game a few weeks ago.

“Oh, my goodness. You were sitting next to me!”