Surprise lifted Lana’s features. “Stalker status there, but yes, it is,” she answered, intrigued.
The man held up his phone. “I saw we were matched, so I wanted to come say ‘hi’ instead of messaging since we were both here.”
Lana frowned at the screen, and I snorted into my cup. “I don’t… I haven’t been online since we got here.” Lana fumbled to take her own phone out and check it. A few notifications were there that hadn’t been before, and Lana tapped to find new matches.
“Wow, I must be drunker than I thought,” she muttered before laying the phone face down and turning her attention to him. “Adam?”
I tuned them out as I peered around the rest of the crowd, my eyes wandering first to the spot where the handsome ginger had sat, and my heart fell upon seeing he was no longer there. Of course. The first guy I found I might be willing to bring back to my apartment would disappear just to find someone easier.
It was a trend I’d grown accustomed to—attractive men acting as though they were interested in me from afar, always staring and sending a drink over, but never approaching. I usually saw them later chatting with other women and had often wondered what was wrong with me. Thankfully, I’d gotten so used to it that it rarely bothered me now. Their loss.
I blamed it on my resting bitch face that I’d come to love.
Adam’s friend tried talking to me as Adam chatted up Lana. I barely caught the end of what he’d opened up with as friendly conversation. Something about the number of people that had shown up for the party. I attempted to engage for Lana’s sake, seeing as she seemed to be enjoying herself, but I didn’t give up my search around the room for my handsome stranger.
“Name is Chad,” the friend said, and I didn’t have to look at him to know he was wholly looking me over, his gaze lingering on my breasts as most men’s usually did.
“It’s always awkward, isn’t it?” he added.
My attention staggered on him, slightly annoyed that he’d introduced himself and went on about the conversation as though he’d no interest in my own name and was rather thoroughly intrigued by my breasts alone.
However, I didn’t blame him. They were great tits.
“What?” I asked as I looked away to continue my search.
“Being the wingman,” Chad explained before downing his drink. “Third wheel. It makes me crazy.”
Ex-fucking-scuse me.
My full attention diverted back. Another tick of annoyance soared through me as my fingers coiled around my martini glass. “You think I’m just here in case she decides she needs an excuse to leave early?” I snapped.
Chad considered me a moment as his throat bobbed with a swallow of his drink. “No need to get an attitude, princess,” he said. “I’m here as his wingman, too.”
“Princess…” I scoffed. I hated when someone called me that in such a condescending manner. “I suppose you think that by default, we’ll be sharing some sort of night together where you claim to please me?”
“I’ve been known to take one for the team,” he said, eyes dancing deliberately over me again. “Though with you, I think I might enjoy it.”
“What makes you think I have any interest in you?”
He stepped closer. “You will.”
“Will I?” This guy had to be fucking kidding me.
I set my drink on the table, hand resting on my hip as my chin raised challengingly. “Do you also think I’ll enjoy the two pumps of your cock inside me before you get off?” I asked. “If you even make it there. From the looks of it, you’re going to come in your pants staring at my tits. Are you enjoying the view? They are directly in your face, after all.”
Chad stared at me, the leer that had been in his eyes now vacant. “You should watch that attitude of yours,” he said, his voice stiffening. “Try being less of a bitch.”
I choked out a sarcastic laugh. “Poor thing, I bet you thought that was an insult,” I said with a tilt of my head.
“Princess, taking you home tonight would be an insult to my reputation,” he shot.
I blinked and took a deep breath as I tried to stay calm. I reminded myself that I shouldn’t drink whiskey. It usually brought out my fight response.
And I really wanted to punch this idiot in the face.
“Call me princess again, and the ambulance will be the one taking you home,” I said through a clenched smile.
“There you are—“
