Three glasses later, she asked us if we wanted to go egg her ex’s car and the rest was history after that.
Nicole’s on the dance floor with her husband Ben, Ellie’s out there with them and some other friends, and I’m stuck at the bar with Ben’s friend, Eric, whispering in my ear.
“What do you say?” Eric says, his fingertips trailing along the side of my forearm. “You ready to get back out there?”
Eric’s attractive, but finance guys are not my thing. He’s had his eye on me for a few months now, according to Ben, although I’ve never fed in to any of his advances.
“I dunno,” I say, half slurring my words together as I roll my head to the side to look at him. His fingers linger, slowly curling around my forearm and sliding down along my wrist. “I’m pretty drunk.”
“So am I,” he laughs, his face flush as he leans closer. His hand encapsulates mine, his fingers pushing between mine. “What do you say we get out of here instead?”
My breath catches in my throat. Panic immediately swirls in the pit of my stomach, regardless of how tipsy I am. Is he hot? Yes. Is he a guy I’d consider going home with? Absolutely.
But not when I’m drunk and not when I’m not sober enough to know if it’s something I might regret in the morning.
It’s been a year since I’ve slept with anyone and I’m not sure this is the guy I want to break my streak with.
“Not tonight,” I say softly, shaking my head as I turn back to the bar, grabbing my water instead. I need to sober up and get the hell out of here. Alone. “I’m not going to leave my friends.”
“Why not? They’re not even with you right now.” He runs his fingers along mine, turning in his seat to look out at the dance floor. “I’m sure they won’t care.”
He wraps his hand around mine, pulling it away from the bar. My eyes flash to his and he’s inching my fingertips closer to his lap. “Feel what you’re doing to me, babe. You got me all fired up after you were rubbing against me while we were dancing.”
Oh my god, no.
I immediately jerk my hand free from his grip. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I didn’t say you could do that.” I hop down from my seat, grabbing my purse and my coat. “I said no. What about that word made you think I want to touch you in any way?”
His eyes narrow on mine as he spins around in his seat to face me. He lowers his feet to the ground, straightening his legs as he stands up. He sways, ever so slightly. “You were all over me while we were dancing.”
“We were dancing, that was it.” He takes a step toward me and I practically jump backwards away from him. I collide with a warm, solid body behind me. “I’m so sorry,” I say in a rush, my words slurring as I turn to face the person.
I stumble as I turn, the room half spinning with me. Large, warm hands dart out, wrapping around my biceps to steady me. I stare at the chest in front of me, my eyes slowly trailing upwards until I meet his gray eyes.
“Matteo?”
The corners of his mouth twitch. “Hey, Sunny.” His expression hardens, his eyebrows drawing close as he scans my face. My chest heaves, my heart beating harder. His eyes flick behind me. “This guy bothering you?”
My breathing hitches. “Oh—um, no. Everything’s okay.”
“You can go, man,” Eric says, stepping up beside us, puffing his chest.
My body falls rigid. Matteo’s hands are still holding me upright. His eyes shift to mine. “Do you want me to leave?”
I swallow roughly, my nostrils widening. My hair dances along my back as I move my head back and forth. “No. Eric was just leaving.” I look over at him. “Weren’t you?”
He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Don’t get your hopes up with her,” he says to Matteo, giving me a dirty look. “She’s just a tease.”
Matteo’s fingers tighten around my biceps, not hard enough to squeeze, but almost as if holding onto me is the only thing stopping his hands from curling into fists.
Eric turns and walks away, Matteo’s eyes following him. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes are dark. Distant and cold.
“Matteo.”
His eyes slice back to mine.
“You can let go of me now.”
He blinks. Once. Twice. Warmth chases away the cold. His throat bobs as he swallows hard then clears his throat. I notice his absence as soon as his hands fall away from my arms. “Sorry.” He lifts his hand, running it through his tousled hair. “Who was that guy?”
