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But no. We can’t. Not here. Not right now.
I summon every ounce of self-control to take a step back. Claire pulls away as well.
“We can’t,” I tell her out loud.
She nods. “I have to go get things ready for the bachelorette party upstairs. And you have a bachelor party to go to.”
“Exactly.”
And unfortunately.
“See you tomorrow?” I ask her.
Claire smiles. “Okay. Have fun.”
“You too.”
She points a finger at me. “But remember, no strippers.”
“No strippers,” I repeat. “We’re just going to the bar for a few drinks.”
Claire frowns. “Boring. We’re having games. Fun, naughty games.”
“I see. Your favorite games.”
“Yup,” she admits. “Maybe we can play one of them next time.”
She’s just full of surprises, isn’t she?
“Maybe.”
She points to the door. “I’ll go out first, just in case Joel might be out there.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“And if he is, I’m going to get mad at him for giving a lousy speech.”
“It wasn’t, though. He embarrassed me, sure, but other than that it was a nice speech.”
“I’m still getting mad at him.”
Claire walks to the door then stops and comes back to me.
“What?” I ask her.
She licks the pad of her thumb and rubs it against the corner of my mouth.
“You have lipstick.”
“Oh.”
Not good. I guess I’m lucky she noticed it.
“There,” she says when she’s done. “You’re all set.”
“Thanks.”
I feel like kissing her again, but if I do I’ll just get her lipstick on me again. Besides, this time, I might not be able to stop.
She gives me a final smile before heading out. I hear her footsteps getting farther and farther away.
I guess that means Joel isn’t there. Good.
Once I can no longer hear her footsteps, I go out. To my surprise, Joel is there.
Shit.
“Hey,” he says when he sees me.
“Hey.”
He glances at the door I just came out of. “What were you doing there?”
“Talking to one of the hotel managers.” I come up with the excuse on the spot. “About business.”
Joel seems to buy it. “Okay.”
Thank goodness he’s not a hard man to convince. Or maybe he just really trusts me, which makes me feel bad that I’m betraying his trust. Still, I’ve made up my mind. The guilt is my friend now.
“You haven’t seen Claire, have you?” he asks. “Nat is looking for her.”
“Actually, I have,” I tell him truthfully. “She went upstairs. She said she had stuff to get ready for the bachelorette party.”
“Oh.”
I pat his shoulder.
“I’m sure she and Natalie will see each other there. As for us…” I glance at my watch. “We have our own party to get to. Are you ready?”Chapter SeventeenClaire
“Go!” I shout right after I start the kitchen timer.
At once, Natalie starts acting out the word she picked. She puts her ankles together and lifts one arm over her head.
“Ballerina,” one of the women in the room answers.
Natalie makes a rolling motion with her hand.
“Ballet?” another woman guesses.
Natalie tiptoes around.
“Ballet dancer!” someone shouts.
Natalie claps. I stop the timer.
“Good job,” I tell her as she sits beside me.
“Thanks. So, what is ‘Ballet Dancer’?”
I read the description on the card.
“Ballet Dancer—You face your partner, stand on one foot and wrap your leg around their waist or raise it on their shoulder.”
Mara, Natalie’s friend from college, gulps down her glass of wine. The other women in the room turn their heads at her.
“You’ve done that?”
“Yeah,” she says. “But just the leg around the waist. Not the shoulder. I’m not a gymnast.”
I don’t think I could do that either. I’m pretty sure I can do the leg around the waist, though. In fact, Ryker and I could have done it in that empty ballroom earlier. That would have been exciting.
Too bad we didn’t.
“Are you okay, Claire?” Natalie’s voice breaks into my thoughts.
I nod. “Yes.”
Then I show her the empty box in my hand.
“But I’m sorry to say that’s the last card in our Bottoms Up Charades.”
Or in other words, a game of charades where the participants guess the name of a sex position, after which it turns into a drinking game where those who have tried the position finish their drink bottoms up.
I had to finish three shots of strong Irish coffee because I’ve done Doggy Style, Tabletop and Missionary. Now, I’m a little lightheaded.
“So, are there more games?” one of Natalie’s friends asks.
“Yup.” I put down the empty box. “We still have the Penis Sculpting Game and the Scavenger Hunt, both of which will be more fun now that we’re all a little drunk.”
Someone cheers.
Someone else puts her hand up. “What if I pass out before we finish all the games?”
Natalie shrugs. “Then I guess you’re out. You can sleep until it’s time for us to check out.”
“Okay.”
Natalie turns to me. “Penis Sculpting Game?”
“You try to make a penis out of clay,” I explain.
“Oh.” She laughs. “You really have the most brilliant ideas.”
“I know I do.”
Before the Bottoms Up Charades, we had Pin The Kiss On The Hottie, which is basically like pinning the tail on the donkey except that instead of a donkey you have a picture of the bride-to-be’s celebrity crush, preferably shirtless. In Natalie’s case, it’s Zac Efron. Not the one from High School Musical but the one from Down to Earth. And instead of a tail, you have to use your lips, coated with any of the lipsticks I prepared. Natalie planted a kiss close to Zac Efron’s forehead. Mine was somewhere near his stomach, though I was imagining Ryker when I planted it.
