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“By allowing me to be your pretend boyfriend. I must say, I enjoy the role.”
Samantha tilts her head as she caresses my face, her fingertips featherlight as they trace the slope of my nose, my jaw, and over my cheeks. I’ve been hard since the moment I laid eyes on her in that silky purple dress that hugs her body, and now the tightness of my pants is becoming extremely uncomfortable.
“You’re a natural,” she says quietly before her lips descend upon mine. The kiss is quick but filled with hunger and promises of what is to come.
Marty returns with three tall glasses filled with a dark brown liquid. “Long Island iced tea,” he says as he places them in front of us and sits down next to me. “The best bang for your buck at a cash bar.” His gaze lingers on me as I take my glass, and just before I take a sip, he leans over and whispers, “You hurt her and I’ll take a baseball bat to your skull, book boy.”
I find the threat quite precious, coming from this frail human male. But he doesn’t know what I truly am, and in his eyes, I’m merely a stranger who has the power to hurt his sister. My respect for Marty grows from the size of a tiny sapling into that of an ancient oak.
“Ugh, I hate these,” Samantha says with a dramatic pout before taking a big sip through her bright pink straw. When the song changes, she sucks in a breath and jumps to her feet. “Oh my god, I love this song. And it’s the Tiesto remix, even better.” She grabs my hand and pulls me onto the dance floor.
The song seems to be about dancing alone, from the few lyrics I pick up, and alternates between lively and slow, which makes it difficult to dance to, oddly enough. Though Samantha seems to have no trouble keeping up. When it’s fast, she twirls in front of me, her hips swaying side to side in a hypnotic way that leaves me breathless. When it slows, she presses her body flush against mine and rests her hands on the back of my neck as we move together.
My hands roam over her curves, and she gasps when I give the lower part of her stomach an affectionate squeeze. “What was that?” she asks, her mouth still gaping at me.
“What? Am I not allowed to touch you there?”
She blinks several times as she considers this. “Well, no, I guess it’s fine. It just caught me off guard.” Her brow furrows as she searches my face. I don’t know what she’s looking for, but she looks confused. “Why did you do that?”
I shrug. “I love that part of you, so I squeezed it. Just as I squeeze your ass,” I explain, letting my hands drift down to palm the soft globes, “because I love the feel of it.”
“Oh,” she mutters.
Panic knots my stomach. “Did you not like it? I won’t do it ag–”
“No,” she says quickly, “I liked it. I definitely liked it, it’s just…no one has ever done that. Grabbed my stomach in a loving way.”
I move my hands back to her stomach and squeeze it again. “Shall I make up for lost time, then?”
She giggles and melts into me as the song slows even further at the end. The tip of her nose brushes against mine. “Yes, please.”
We hunker down at the table for a while and enjoy the view of people dancing around us.
“There’s Nate,” Samantha says as her ex wanders near us, caught up in what seems to be a tense exchange with the older man who walked his new bride, Fiona, down the aisle during the ceremony. Nate gestures toward us as he struggles to say something in Spanish, and Samantha jerks back in response. “The fuck?”
Nate guides the man over to our table, and he says, “These are my friends, Marty, Sam, and uh…” He leans in as he looks at me. “Sorry, what is your name again?”
“Mylo.”
“Right, this is Sam’s friend, Mylo.”
The man gives us a half-smile before grumbling about something under his breath and walking away. Samantha quickly scans the room, her eyes wide as she comes to a realization. “Christ on a cracker,” she grabs Marty’s arm, “are we the only other brown people here? Besides the bride and her family?”
“What? No,” Marty scoffs. Though he was quick to dismiss the theory, as he glances around at the hundred-plus pale-faced guests, his expression tightens.
“We are,” Samantha concludes. “That’s why he invited me. It had nothing to do with gaining the upper hand or whatever. He wanted to look good in front of her family.”
Marty scoffs. “Come on. Nate wouldn’t do that.”
“Nathan,” Samantha shouts as she gets to her feet. The groom approaches, looking slightly nervous as he takes in her aggressive energy and her moderately drunken state.
“Sam, great to see you,” he says with a tight smile. “Thank you for coming.”
She cuts him off before he can continue with the pleasantries. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to tell me the truth.”
He chews on the inside of his cheek. “Okay…”
“Are we your token brown friends tonight?”
