“We’re just here to have a good time,” Bobby said smoothly. “Can you get me a round of My Kinda Party for me and my friends here?”
“What’s that?” Berkley asked, tipping her head back to look at Bobby. “Other than the name of a song, of course.”
“Some fruity drink that, despite being the manly men we are, we can’t get enough of.”
Lexie laughed, a full-bellied sound, and Bobby glanced sideways at her. “I like your laugh,” he told her quietly.
She looked into his eyes, and her cheeks heated instantly.
Get yourself together, Monroe,she silently admonished herself.You can’t possibly be blushing over this cheesy cowboy.
This was why Lexie wanted to go back to the condo and go to bed instead of joining these guys for more alcohol.
Because Lexie plus beautiful boys plus booze equaled bad decisions, and despite her misgivings about getting serious with Mitch again, she really was trying to get her head on straight.
The last thing she needed was a distraction the likes of some Nashville hottie to come in and fuck the whole thing up.
After the bartender delivered their drinks and Bobby paid, he led them up several flights of stairs to the rooftop, where they pushed a few tables together and settled in, comfortable in the balmy Tennessee summer air.
“So where are you ladies from?” One of Bobby’s friends asked. Lexie later learned his name was Nash.
A bit too on the nose for her liking, but southerners were strange.
“Michigan,” Lexie said, pointing at herself, Berkley, Amelia, and Jessica. “She”—a point at Mackenzie—“is from New York but now lives in Detroit, and she”—a finger in Kimber’s direction—“is from California.”
“And how do y’all know each other?” Bobby asked.
The girls explained their relationships, which truthfully weren’t all that complicated: college friends and siblings.
After that, they spent some time getting to know each other, ordering more drinks and enjoying the Nashville evening above the hustle and bustle of Broadway.
Bobby found any excuse to touch Lexie, whether it was sliding a hand along her thigh before reaching out to snatch his drink from the table, or twisting a lock of her hair between his fingers as he listened to one of the girls tell a story. By the time bar close rolled around, and a bartender ushered them down the stairs and back into the night, Lexie’s nerves were completely frayed.
Tonight, she had done everything in her power to avoid leading him on, leading them to this moment when he snagged her wrist and pulled her flush against his body right as she turned to go, but she knew Bobby’s type. He was the kind of guy used to getting what he wanted, and tonight he’d set his sights on Lexie.
“You didn’t think you were getting away without a good night kiss, did you?” Bobby asked her, licking his lips.
She pushed away from him, cheeks heating in embarrassment. She had tried so hard to be someone different tonight, someone other than her usual party-girl, boy-crazy self. It made her skin crawl that despite all that, this man still saw her as an object to be used, as someone who would kiss him, maybe go home with him for an orgasm or two, then leave and never see or hear from again.
It would be so easy for her to give Bobby what he so clearly wanted, but Lexie desperately didn’t want to be that girl anymore.
Mitch’s voice sounded in her head:You are a gift.
It was time she started treating herself as such.
“Lexie!” Someone yelled behind her, and she spun to find her friends waiting for her. Her shoulders sagged in relief.
“Sorry,” she told Bobby. “Gotta go.”
She ran to catch up with Berkley, who hung back as the rest of the gang forged ahead in the direction of the condo. “He tried to kiss you, didn’t he?” She asked.
Lexie nodded. “I didn’t want to.”
“How come?” Berkley asked. “I mean, nothing was stopping you.”
“Because I’m still in love with Mitch,” she blurted. “I always have been. And I might be screwed up and drowning, treading water while I figure out what the fuck I’m going to do about it, but I love him. And I think he loves me. I can’t do that to him…to us.”
Berkley wrapped her arm around Lexie’s waist and leaned into her shoulder as they walked. “About fucking time,” she said.
