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Josh pulled Clara to his side of the table and bumped his hip against hers. “This one’s easy,” he said, showing her the motion with an empty cup. “It’s all in the wrist.”
“I know how to play flip cup.” She raised her chin defiantly. “I spent the last nine years on various college campuses.”
“Fair enough,” Josh said. “Naomi and I are the anchors. So stand next to me and I can make up for any lag time.”
Clara crossed her arms. “Why are you assuming I’m going to lag?”
He didn’t get the chance to respond before Felix climbed on a chair and bellowed. “Okay, folks. You’ll go on my command. The first player on each team must answer my question before they start drinking. Players ready? Would you rather fuck Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny?”
The shouted replies of the first player on each team mingled in an alarming calamity and then they were off. The other team members cheered and the spectators heckled through the megaphones of their cupped hands. A bolt of competitive spirit ran up Josh’s spine.
He held his breath as the line sped toward Clara. Please don’t let her get flustered. Josh could barely watch as the player in front of her, Stacy, scrambled. The other team gained on them as she attempted over and over again to land her cup. Josh gritted his teeth.
Shit. Now the round would end on Clara’s turn and she’d feel awful again. He could hardly stand to see her upset. It was like watching a puppy with a broken leg. Josh chose not to examine why he cared so much that Clara fit in with his friends.
Finally, Stacy landed her cup. The other team would end it all at any moment. God damn it.
Except . . .
Josh’s mouth fell open as Clara downed her entire beer in a single gulp and then flipped her cup on the first try, using only her index finger.
“What the hell are you waiting for?” Clara’s cheeks were flushed and beer glistened on her lips as she yelled at him.
Josh shook off his stupor and flipped his own cup as Naomi floundered across from him. The cup landed after a few tries, winning the game at the last possible second in a blur of stale lager and admiring shouts from their team members.
Without thinking, Josh grabbed Clara around the waist and swung her in a circle, setting her skirt swinging.
She laughed in his arms, her grin gleaming against her cheeks. “Put me down, or I’ll throw up all over you and then we’ll both be in trouble.”
“Josh loves trouble,” Naomi said, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes as she observed their embrace. He wanted to chalk up her sour expression to her reputation as a sore loser, but that didn’t explain why he felt so guilty.
Immediately, he stopped spinning. With reluctance, he lowered Clara. A terrifying thought lit a fire in his brain. Fuck. If he wasn’t careful, trouble might not be the only thing he loved for long.
The way he felt about Clara, heart pounding every time she entered a room, greedy for her approval, laughing at everything she said. He hadn’t recognized the signals. Had always assumed he’d been born immune.
Clearing his throat, he popped open a new beer, letting the cold, bitter liquid linger on his taste buds like a wake-up call. No. Not possible.
“Where did that performance come from?”
She raised her shoulder toward her ear. “I’ve always been good at flip cup. Not that you asked.” She stuck her tongue out at him and reached to help Felix arrange the next round.
Josh tried not to panic.
He didn’t mind admitting he wanted to sleep with Clara. Or even that he liked her a lot as a person. Josh could talk to her more easily than most people, even about stuff he’d never shared with anyone else. But that didn’t mean he wanted to be with her. He’d never wanted to be someone’s boyfriend. All the responsibility and expectations. No thanks.
He couldn’t be falling for her. He wouldn’t. The laws of evolution shouldn’t allow it.
Josh watched as Clara laughed at something Felix said. He furrowed his brow. What was so funny?
Naomi offered him a plate of spinach dip and crackers. “Don’t do it.”
“I’m not doing anything.” He wiped his palms on his shorts before helping himself to the food.
“Good. Because it wouldn’t work anyway.” Even though Naomi used the same argument he’d made for himself a few minutes ago, he found himself balling his hands into fists.
His mother used to say, If you want something to happen, tell Josh it can’t be done.
chapter twenty-one
