She reset her face. “Where’s everyone else?”
“They’re, uh, they were right behind me…”
Great.
She scanned the casino and saw a few familiar faces at various tables, spotting Matty and Milo at the bar. She reached for Taylor’s hand and took off again, this time with Logan in tow.
Hanna would have preferred to be as far away from him as possible to avoid another poke at her insecurities about their relationship, but she had to admit, there was something tempting about him crawling back to her. Even if she'd never take him up on it, the more she drank, the more she liked the idea of making him squirm.
Matty threw his hands in the air and yelled a non-verbal greeting as they approached. She leaned over the bar and ordered a whiskey sour and a vodka cranberry, plopping the pink drink in Taylor’s hands.
“How are you holding up?” Hanna asked Milo, who’d clearly become the group babysitter. He held a plastic cup of beer in one hand, nursing it while he watched Matty scream again as he hit on black at a roulette table.
“Fine,” he sighed. “These motherfuckers are going to get themselves killed tonight. I guess last night wasn’t exciting enough.”
“Vegas, baby,” she replied sarcastically.
Milo pointed over her shoulder at the sight of Logan falling over himself talking to Maricela who could not have been less interested.
“I see you’re already well aware what state your boy is in.” Logan fell over himself talking to Maricela, who could not have been less interested.
“He’s not my boy.”
Milo’s face twisted into a sinister smile. “You’re goddamn right about that.”
“Milo,” she warned.
He leaned closer, dropping his forefinger over her bare shoulder.
“Which color did you go with?”
She mirrored his expression. “Neither.”
He let out a breath, polishing off his beer. “I look forward to verifying that later,” he mumbled, a hand tugging at the hem below her ass. She wanted to lean into his touch, but there were too many of them around.
“How’s Matty?” She changed the subject, desperate to take her mind off of his hands.
“He won twelve hundred dollars and is working on a grand plan to convince Sara to marry him at the Taco Bell Cantina, so I would say he’s enjoying himself.”
Hanna shrugged. “I’d be cool to get it all over with tonight, especially if there’s a Chalupa at the end.”
Milo moved closer and she braced for whatever depraved thing he had on his mind just as an arm draped over her shoulder.
She drew in a sharp breath, already irritated.
“Hanna! What are we drinking?” Logan slurred.
“I am drinking a whiskey sour. You should probably drink some water.”
She slipped out from under his arm, only for it to land around her waist.
The bastard never learns.
Hanna glanced at Milo, trying to read his face, or at least send a distress signal, but he only ordered another beer.
“Can I get two glasses of water?” she asked the bartender, who was quick to make it happen. She handed one to Logan. “Drink.”
“Don’t be so boring.”
