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I took a slow sip of my whiskey sour, the bright punch of citrus and liquor hitting my tongue.
Kace was definitely fucking with me. And I couldn’t stop watching. I was pretty sure he knew my eyes were on him as he reached over the bar again, his oblique muscles on the side of his body on display. He poured himself a shot of white rum, squeezed a little lime juice into it, and then tossed back the shot, meeting my gaze.
I tried to give him a polite smile that probably looked as stiff and awkward as I felt right now.
Did he know how completely he had me hanging on a thread, like he was one step ahead of me at all times?
And how far was this standoff going to go?
Just then, a redheaded girl came barrelling over toward Kace, running up to him and giving him something between a tight hug and a tackle.
“I found sunglasses guy,” she said to Kace, her mouth in a wide grin. “And he’s even fucking hotter without the glasses on. I need another drink.”
“You’re going to outdo yourself tonight,” Kace said, already getting to work making her a drink. “What’s the quickest you’ve gone from meeting a guy to getting laid in one night, Cal?”
Her expression quirked up in thought. She had a few little sparkly rhinestones stuck on the sides of her eyes, and plenty of shimmery eyeshadow. “Probably three hours, with Ryan back in college. And yes. I fully intend to break that record tonight.”
Kace turned toward me. “Nathan, I know she needs no introduction after what you just heard, but this is my friend Callie. Callie, Nathan is the lead contractor for the company working on my guest house remodel.”
“Hi, Nathan,” she said, beaming at me and shaking my hand. “God, you really found the real-life Luke fromGilmore Girls, Kace.”
Kace glanced back at me. “Nathan’s hotter than that guy.”
My cheeks went molten and I glanced down, pretending to look at something on my shoes. Kace saying I was “hot” made me feel like a teacher’s pet. I’d done something right and gotten my reward of delicious praise.
I had to change the subject.
“I like your space buns,” I told Callie, looking back up and nodding at the two buns atop her head.
“See?” she said, her eyes going wide as she turned to Kace. “Even he knows that they’re called space buns. Kace called themLeia cinnamon rollswhen I got here tonight.”
“I have a fifteen-year-old daughter,” I said. “She’s very strict about the difference between space buns, high buns, low buns, and ponytails. Anyway, they look nice.”
Callie laughed. “Well, you look nice, too. I dig the flannel. Very 90s grunge.” She reached out to feel my sleeve. “Soft, too. Is this vintage?”
“It’s Costco,” I said. “Straight from the tables at the center of the store.”
Callie seemed to find that hilarious. “I like him,” she told Kace.
“Here’s your drink,” Kace told her, handing her a cocktail full of mint and lime. “Go find your sunglasses guy. Maybe he’s into Princess Leia.”
“Oh, God,” Callie said, looking out one of the windows. “I think we may have a problem out back.”
“Shit,” Kace said, looking over. The TV crew was right outside, and three cameras were currently pointed at a guy who was lying down on the deck by the pool. He looked more than a little drunk, and he was currently doing something like a sloppy striptease for the cameras.
“Time for damage control,” Callie said, giving Kace a sympathetic look before heading outside.
“Nathan, you all good?” Kace asked. “I really need to go rescue my buddy Will from a bunch of nationally televised shame. He’s going to regret it otherwise.”
“I’m good. Great. Go help your friend,” I said. “I’ll mingle.”
Kace gave me a thankful nod before sprinting out and turning the cameras away from his friend.
* * *
I’d told Kace I was going to mingle, but the truth was that the second he left my side, I felt just as out of place as ever. I sipped at my whiskey sour as I headed out back to the far side of the lawn, behind the sauna and toward a fire pit. There were only a few people around the fire, two of them kissing and the others melting into their chairs, probably tired and drunk.
I sat down in a chair and pulled out my phone, answering the last few work emails that I hadn’t been able to finish before coming here. Charlie, our masonry contractor, was finalizing an order of pavers for the back area of Kace’s guest house.
