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He shakes his head. “I have to go collect my date.”
Oh, hell. I completely forgot about her. “Of course, you do.”
“Can I call you?” he asks me quietly.
“Depends.”
He smiles a slow smile. “On what?”
“Are you going to sleep with her?”
His brow arches. “Is there a reason why I shouldn’t?”
I swallow hard enough that I can hear it. “No. No reason.” I push the button to raise the window and he’s forced to step back.
“Well, that was a shit show,” Finny complains. She wipes a hand across her sweaty brow. Lifting her fist high, she drops it hard against Ryan’s upper arm. “What the fuck was your brother thinking, bringing a date with him tonight?” She signs the words at him, her hands flying fiercely.
Ryan rubs the sting out of his arm. “She’s just someone who works with him. It wasn’t a date.”
Finny glares at him.
“Really, it wasn’t. He’s not dating anyone. Not since her.” He jabs a finger in my direction. “I think you broke my brother’s penis, Wren,” he says. He pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“What did I do to break Mick’s penis?” I toss back. I never even got a chance to see his penis.
Ryan is suddenly completely serious. He stares into my eyes. “You made him fall in love with you.”
Mick
My date is standing on the front sidewalk when I go looking for her. She taps the toe of her shoe against the pavement as she waits at the taxi stand. I wrap my hands around my mouth and call out, “Claire!”
She turns to face me, and then she rolls her eyes and turns away.
“Claire,” I say again as I walk closer. She doesn’t turn to face me. The tapping toe grows fierce. I touch her shoulder to turn her to face me, but she resists. “Are you leaving?”
She finally turns to face me. “Am I leaving?” she asks. “Am I leaving? Seriously?” She huffs out a breath and turns away again, crossing her arms in front of her.
What did I do wrong? “Are you angry at me?”
She turns back to me. “Why did you bring me here tonight?”
“Because there was a party and I thought it might be fun…” I say slowly. I watch her face for clues.
“Fun? You think watching you get stinking drunk while you stare at another woman is fun? Then you left with her, leaving me sitting there all by myself—”
“I had to see them out the back door. I came back,” I rush to say.
“How was I supposed to know that you were coming back?” she demands.
“Because I brought you here.” It seems very clear to me.
“How long have you been in love with her?”
“Who?” I ask, but I know exactly who she’s talking about.
“The brunette. The one you stared at all night long.”
I sputter out a nonsensical noise. “I’m not in love with her.”
