ELIJAH
Hawk has already ruined it by mooning over my sister. He’s barely drinking, and he refused to go to any strip clubs. Absolutely pathetic.
I’m sure you’ll do much better when it’s your turn. So many prostitutes.
I already have their LinkedIn profiles saved.
He sends me a pin to their location, and ten minutes later we are walking into some bar that has thirty kinds of frozen beverages along the wall.
Hawk and Kelsey immediately attach to each other like magnets, or maggots, depending on how you feel about their level of affection.
And I, of course, slide right up next to Elijah, as if it can’t be helped. The mere sight of him eases something inside me that I didn’t even realize was tensed, but the sentiment is not shared.
Elijah takes in my barely there dress, and his mouth sets in a grim line. “Did you lose the pants that came with that shirt over the course of the evening?”
“Your sister made me wear it, and before you start talking about how slutty it is, you should know that it’s hers, not mine.”
“I don’t know if anybody pointed this out, but you are about four inches taller than my sister. That thing would drape to her knees.”
His nostrils flare, suddenly, and I have no idea why until Aiden steps up beside me with his hand on the small of my back. “That dress is something else,” he says with a sly grin.
If it wasn’t for Elijah, I’d probably be interested. Aiden’s hot, and smart, and the right degree of flirty without being gross. But all I feel for him are friend vibes.
“You bend an inch in that thing,” Elijah grits out, “and the whole bar is going to see your panties.”
I give him a brittle smile. “If I were wearing them, sure.”
Aiden glances between the two of us and squeezes my hip. “When you’re done bickering, come find me. You owe me a dance.”
He moves away and Elijah appears even more furious than he already was. “So this is still going to happen with you two?” he demands.
“For fuck’s sake, Elijah. Because he wants to dance? It’s not exactly a marriage proposal.”
“I’m not worried about himmarryingyou.”
He’s acting more jealous right now than Thomas ever has, and we’re not even together. He could have me if he wanted me and he just...doesn’t.
“This is insane,” I tell him. “You have no idea what you even want.”
His hand wraps around my arm, stopping me as I turn. He’s pressed to my back and as much as I ought to resent being manhandled, I like it. I’m melting.
He leans down. “I know what I want, Easton.”
I glance behind me. Here’s the thing: I believe him. I don’t know why he isn’t pursuing something permanent with me, but I don’t think you can be intimate with someone the way we were and have it mean nothing.
And even if he never figures it out, I’m not done.
I let my weight press to his chest and his hand wraps around my hip, pulling me closer. And then he starts to move me in the direction of the dance floor.
“You’regoing to dance?” I ask.
“I’m not fucking dancing,” he says, maneuvering me toward the bathrooms. “And neither are you.”
“I’m not having sex with you in a public restroom,” I insist, but my voice is breathy, as if I’ve already conceded. I suppose I have.
“Is that a challenge, Easton?” he asks against my ear. “I bet you’re already soaked at the idea.”
He’s right. I am.
