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I rolled my eyes at my friend’s dramatics. “It’s nothing,” I insisted. But the truth was, I was a little concerned myself. I felt... off. It was hard to describe. There were no symptoms, no aches or pains or fever. I just didn’t feel like myself. “I think maybe I’m just in a funk or something. I’ll get out of it.”
Right?
I mean, this couldn’t last forever. Could it? Oh god! The thought of being alone and celibate for the rest of my life soundedmiserable.
Layla and Marin shared a knowing look. Fortunately, I was saved from having to ask what those two were silently communicating when we finally reached the front of the line. The caterers looked at me like I was nuts when I requested a double serving of the au gratin potatoes and green beans almondine, but my stomach felt like it had started to eat itself, I was so damn hungry. The three of us headed for our assigned table and sat down to eat with the rest of our crew from Whiskey Dolls, the local burlesque club where we performed.
Marin leaned down to place a kiss on her husband Pierce’s lips before she took her seat, the two of them sharing a tender look that made my chest feel funny and tight. As soon as Layla’s butt met her chair, her husband, Jude, yanked it closer to his, like he couldn’t possibly get close enough to her, and placed one hand on the back as he continued his conversation with our other friend Charlotte’s husband, Dalton. His fingers lightly caressed the bare skin of her shoulder and the back of her neck, occasionally toying with a loose strand of her hair, as though it was impossible to be near her and not touch her in some way.
Charlotte’s man was no different. Dalton kept looking in her direction as she chatted with Hardin, another friend of ours, and smiling like the sun rose and set with his woman, and he couldn’t get enough.
Our table rounded out with Hardin’s man, Ford, Sloane and her man Silas, who she recently started shacking up with, selling her house that had been next door to his in order to move in with him and his teenaged daughter.
Silas worked as the head of security for our club and was a total badass. And even though he and Sloane were still happily in the honeymoon stages of their relationship, I noticed Ford shooting him the occasional dirty look and couldn’t help but laugh.
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Sloane and Silas were meant for each other, just as there was no one else for Hardin but Ford. However, before any of them had hooked up, Silas and Hardin had been set up on a date by Asher. To say Ford had gotten crazy jealous would have been a serious understatement. It had been the push he needed to get his head out of his ass and make his move.
Out of the whole crew, I was the odd man out. The eleventh wheel. It had never bothered me before, so what the hell was the issue now?
“So, Alma,” Layla called from across the table. “What do you think caused this supposed funk?”
That garnered the attention of everyone at our table. I narrowed my eyes and shoved a bite of delicious, buttery potato into my mouth.
“What funk?” Charlotte asked, her gaze darting between me and Layla.
Marin’s mouth curved up in a shit-eating grin. “Alma’s sex funk,” she answered behind the rim of her champagne flute.
“Think I’m gonna hit up the bar,” Pierce said, rising to his feet and tossing the napkin that had been in his lap onto the table.
“Think I’ll join you,” Dalton said.
Silas stood as well, lazily buttoning the front of his blazer one handed in that sexy way men did. “We’ll be back when you ladies have changed topics.”
Ford and Jude followed suit, with the former adding, “So, say... forty-five minutes?”
Jude clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll give it a solid hour. Just to be safe. When these women start talking about sex, they could make three locker rooms full of football players blush.”
“Cowards,” I called to their backs when they moved as a whole away from us.
Not a single one of them turned back, leaving me to the wolves, and when I twisted back around, I saw I had the undivided attention of the rest of the remaining table.
3
ALMA
“What’s going on?” Sloane asked, leaning closer and propping her forearms on the table.
“Nothing’s going on. I just—”
“She isn’t hooking up with anyone tonight,” Layla blurted. “Marin and I pointed out three perfectly gorgeous dudes and she wasn’t interested.”
I bugged my eyes out in her direction. “Jeez, woman. Think you could let me answer for myself?”
She curled her shoulders in slightly, looking properly remorseful. “Sorry.”
“What’s wrong?” Charlotte asked. “Are you sick?”
I rolled my eyes. This was getting ridiculous. “No, I’m not sick! I’m just not in the mood. You guys make it sound like I go around screwing anything that looks in my direction. I’m notalwayspicking up men, you know.”
