Sure, the two names were similar, but this girl's name could have been Amanda and I still would have said Scarlet. I hadn't been thinking about this girl at all. I'd had to think about Scarlet just to get through it.
What the hell was I doing?
Charlotte put her arms back around me and started to close the distance between us to pick up where we had left off. I quickly reached up and removed her hands from around my neck.
"I need a drink," I said, hoping she would get the hint that I wasn't interested in continuing to make out with her—or anything else she thought this might lead to.
"I can go get you one," she said, obviously not picking up on my subtle comment.
"Uh, that's okay. I'll go get it." Lifting her off my lap, I placed her on the seat next to me. "It was nice meeting you, Charlotte. I hope you have a good night."
I stood up and walked toward the stairs knowing there was no way she could misinterpret me walking away.
"What?" she said, her voice full of confusion. "Where are you going?"
"To get a drink," I called out over my shoulder.
It might have not been the nicest way to handle the situation, but I couldn't find the energy to care. She'd been using me as much as I'd been using her.
I trudged down the stairs and made my way back into the kitchen to find that drink I'd said I wanted, wondering how I'd gotten myself into this situation. Last year I had done such a great job of blocking Scarlet out. Mostly.
Now I had been with a woman and pretended she was Scarlet, even saying her name. Out loud. I rubbed a hand down my face, frustrated that I had let Scarlet get to me so much.
When I'd flirted with her at the Wolf's Den, I'd been trying to mess with her mind, but instead it had ended up messing with mine.
Grabbing a red solo cup that sat on the kitchen counter, I downed the now warm liquid in one gulp, wincing at the flat, sour taste. I'd come here tonight to have fun and try to forget about Scarlet, but instead she'd been all I could think about and I'd had no fun. Looking at the other liquor on the counter, I tried to find something that would be strong enough to wash away the heart-shaped face that continued to swim around in my mind.
Reaching for the vodka, I began to pour the liquid in the cup.
"Don't tell me you're nursing a bruised ego," a sultry Southern voice mocked.
I knew that voice instantly. Scarlet.
She hadn't willingly come up to talk to me since the bonfire, and the fact that she was now standing next to me had me both shocked and thrilled.
I glanced up to see her dark-green eyes, and my pulse automatically picked up speed at the closeness of her. She stood with one hip resting against the counter, her arms folded underneath her full breasts, pushing them up enough to get a nice view of her cleavage.
Setting the bottle of vodka down, I let a side smirk slide onto my face, a feeling of excitement rising up that she was talking to me. "And what makes you think that?"
"Oh, I don't know," she said in fake innocence. "Possibly the fact that saying the wrong name when making out with someone is a total buzz kill." Her eyes laser in on mine, a look of triumph on her face.
Surprise washed over me at the knowledge of her overhearing me say her name when I had been making out with another girl, but I was quick to cover it up and replace it with a full smile, enjoying thatshe'senjoying the fact that she's still on my mind.
"Now, Scarlet, were you spying on me?" I tease.
She pushed off the counter with her hip and unfolded her arms, giving me an exasperated look that just made me grin even wider.
"Please," she scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. I was looking for an empty bathroom, and you weren't exactly in a private area."
"Uh-huh, sure," I said, letting her think I questioned her explanation.
Now it was my turn to fold my arms across my chest. "And you assumed that she didn't want to continue because I mixed up her name?"
Her eyes dipped down, lingering on my biceps for just a second before she hurried to return them to my face to see what I was sure was a smirk. "Yes. Isn't that what happened?" she challenged.
"No, that's not what happened," I said, unfolding my arms. I placed one of my hands on the counter and leaned toward her. "If you would have stuck around longer, you would have heard that she didn't care that I said another girl's name, and that I turned her down because"—I paused to reach up and lift one of the curls along the side of her neck—"she isn't who I want to be spending my time with."
Lifting my gaze from the curl between my fingers, I found her staring at me with her mouth slightly open, her breath shallow. We both stayed silent, the air between us charged. I wondered if she wanted me as badly as I wanted her right now. It wouldn't have taken much to close the distance between us. I'd only have to lean down a couple inches, and then I'd get to taste the flavor I'd been craving and denying myself for too long.
