“Did you have fun?”
“It was kind of more fun being here than at the bar. I’m not really a bar person.”
“Why not?”
“It just kind of takes away the intimacy of a party, I guess. But Layna is a lot more extroverted. And, well, a teensy bit of a flirt.”
“Not you?”
Why did I care?
“Not really my thing. And drunk guys are…”
She didn’t need to finish.
We all knew what drunk guys could be.
Creepy.
Annoying.
Dangerous.
“Did everyone pass out?”
“Most of them. Layna challenged Spike and Cain to a poker game, though.”
“Those poor fucks,” I said with a snort.
“I know. Did no one tell them that she is a professional poker player?”
“Dunno. Guess they’re finding out right about now, though.”
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” I asked as she let out a dramatically long yawn.
“I don’t know,” she said, the notes in her voice not quite landing true. “I tried,” she added. “But I couldn’t fall asleep.”
I could sense her wanting me to press.
And knew I couldn’t.
So I kept my damn focus forward.
The air felt like it was slowly getting thicker, harder to breathe in. I couldn’t tell if it was Gracie, or me, or what.
Then, suddenly, Gracie was moving.
Up onto her knees.
Then moving over to straddle me.
“Gracie,” I said, tone pained. “What are you doing?”
Her body tensed.
Her eyes went wide.
The sense of rejection practically vibrated off of her.
