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“Everyone who was on the listyouprovided me received an invite.” I fold my arms over my chest. “So if you forgot to put your own damn name on the list, then that sounds like you dug your own grave there, Blondie.”
“Don’t youdarecall me that now.” Her hands ball up by her sides. “Thanks to you, my sister and I are now having a fight and you’ve justified why Mike hates me.”
“I take no responsibility for the fact that you can’t organise yourself.” But even as I say the words, I feel a twinge of guilt. My relationship with my brother is the most important one in my life, and I would hunt down anyone who stood in the way of it.
“How am I supposed to organise anything when all my calls go ignored and the replies to my emails are nothing but shitty single-sentence responses that veto every suggestion I have? And that wasbeforeyou fobbed me off onto your assistant.”
She looks like she’s about to blow a gasket. And I’m in the weird position of being incredibly ticked off and also extremely horny. Seriously, Drew’s body wasmadefor skin-tight outfits. Her small but perky breasts are encased in faux-leather and the big chunky boots make her look even sleeker. It’s totally hot and I should not be thinking about her like that anymore.
It’s one thing to sleep with someone you shouldn’t by accident, but it’s another to make an informed decision to do it again.
“I didn’t have time to deal withWar and Peaceevery time you emailed me.”
She huffs. “Sorry I give a shit about my sister. I’m not sure why I bothered, because apparently I have no idea what she wants anyway.”
For a brief second, Drew’s tough-girl façade falters. There’s genuine hurt there.
“Look, I didn’t intend for you to miss getting an invite, okay? I thought you were on the list. It was an honest mistake.”
“And switching around my party idea?”
I’m not going to give her an inch there. “That was payback.”
Her jaw twitches. She’s mega pissed. I’m...veryunsure what to feel right now. Because my head is telling me one thing, and my dick doesnotagree.
“You look hot,” I say.
“Screw you.”
“I like it when you’re mean.” I step forward and she backs up, moving farther into the unused room. Her costume is a stark contrast to the fancy old building with its decorative cornices, gold-patterned wallpaper and polished floorboards. “How do you get in and out of that get-up, anyway?”
“File that under things I’ll never tell you.” She crosses her arms and all it does is draw my eyes down to where the leather-like fabric stretches over her breasts. “So, Flynn huh? That’s kind of an old-timey name.”
“Yep. I’m named after Errol Flynn and my brother Gabe is named after Clark Gable.” I shrug and the casual gesture makes her jaw twitch. “Our mother was a big movie fan.”
“Not exactly living up to your namesake, are you? Wasn’t Errol Flynn a massive playboy?”
“And a reported drunk and drug user, neither of which I am.”
“Would that make you a ‘reported’ stick-in-the-mud?” she teases, her tone softening.
“According to some.”
“Maybe you need to do something more exciting, Flynn.”
“Any ideas?”
Drew’s eyes dart to the doorway and that’s enough to get my blood thundering and my cock jumping to attention. I can’t explain this weird vibe between us—it’s equal parts lust and antagonism, but my God it’s fun. More fun than I can ever remember having—which, admittedly, is not the highest of bars to clear.
“Once this outfit comes off it’s not going back on.” Drew nails me with a hard stare.
“It wouldn’t be wise to head back into the party wearing it, anyway,” I say. “So really, does it matter?”
“If I do that, then what am I going to wear out of here?”
“Tablecloth?” I look to a table that’s sitting off to the side of the room. “It’s kind of like a bedsheet, and we’ve established you’re already plenty comfortable wearing those.”
She snorts and then shakes her head. “Why do I keep wanting to have sex with you? I don’t even like you.”
