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Ares grins, nodding eagerly as he turns to head for a nearby cocktail table brimming with liquor bottles.
“You’re gonna regret that,” Iver laughs, nudging me with an elbow. “Ares is the world’s worst bartender.”
I chuckle lowly. “Eh, it can’t be that bad.”
“Wanna bet?”
Tristan and Archer laugh along with him, and as soon as Ares returns and hands me a cup full of a suspicious looking blue concoction, I realize that the guys weren’t exaggerating. Even more so when I bring it to my lips and take a sip, practically choking on the overly sweet liquid.
I force myself to swallow, trying my best not to grimace at the taste. “What is this?” I ask dubiously.
“Electric lemonade,” Ares replies. “Well, my version of it, anyway. Whaddya think?”
I glance down at the blue liquid in my cup. “It’s good,” I lie.
“Yeah right,” Archer snorts, barking a laugh.
“Hey, just becauseyoudon’t like my drinks doesn’t mean that other people don’t,” Ares says with a scowl, turning at the waist to deliver a hard punch to his brother’s bicep. “It’s nice to have someone around who appreciates my bartending skills for a change.”
“What skills?” Archer teases.
The two of them start bickering back and forth, playfully shoving one another, while I glance around at the sea of people in the room. “Where’s…”
“Madd?” Iver cuts in, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. “He’s off with his girl. They’ll be back eventually.”
“Cool,” I nod. Though he’s not the one I was searching for.
I know my girl is around here somewhere. I swear I canfeelher presence, my inner wolf sensing hers nearby. Our wolves are just as connected as our human sides are- well, as much as we can be, for a bond that isn’t fully sealed yet. Still, I feel that familiar tug in my chest, the tether of the mate bond being pulled taut, and I look around the room, following the pull I feel until I see her.
I know it’s cliché, but for a second, I swear I forget to breathe. Lo always looks good, but tonight she’s dressed to the nines in a tight red dress and heels, her long blonde hair falling over her bare shoulders in gentle waves. Her lips are painted red to match her dress, and her dark eye makeup makes her baby blues pop. It’s not the way she’s dressed that gets me, though. It’s the way shemoves.
She’s dancing with Avery and Andie, the three of them in their own little world as they bop and sway to the music. Lo throws her head back as she sings along with the song, swishing her hair and shaking her hips, looking so sexy and free and uninhibited that I can’t tear my gaze away from her.
Fuck, she’s perfect.
Mine.
I don’t even know how long I’m staring before I hear Ares call my name, snapping me out of the spell Lo has me under.Whipping my head around to look his way, I find him watching me, grinning smugly.
“Wanna go dance?”
“Yeah, sure,” I reply a little too quickly, tossing the rest of my drink back. It tastes like lighter fluid dipped in sugar, but I choke it down anyways, not wanting to offend my new buddy Ares.
We both get to our feet, the other guys opting out of joining, and I let Ares lead the way, my pulse picking up speed as he makes a beeline for Lo and her friends.
I know we’re supposed to keep up the ruse of being strangers in front of these people, but there’s nothing wrong with a little dancing.
I mean… what’s the worst that could happen?
18
I’m not typically a big drinker, but Madd got a bunch of prosecco for the party because Sloane likes it, and Imight’vedipped into some to calm my nerves when I showed up early with the girls to set up. And by that, I mean we definitely went through several bottles before the party even got fully underway.
I’m pleasantly tipsy, and if you would’ve asked me last week if I’d be out here on the dance floor tearing it up while belting out the lyrics to a Carly Rae Jepsen song… well, I would’ve absolutely believed you on the dancing part, because it’s mandatory in Andie Raines’ world wheneverCall Me Maybecomes on. The singing, however, can only be blamed on the prosecco.
Sloane already snuck off somewhere with Madd, so it’s just me, Andie, and Avery on the dance floor in our own little bubble, shaking our asses to the world’s most annoying song without a care in the world. That is, until something behind me catchesAvery’s attention and she leans in with a devilish gleam in her eye, drawing us in.
“Here comes trouble,” she purrs, eyes still fixed past us as she lifts her chin to indicate.
