My cousin extends her hand, a wide smile on her full lips. “Hi Eddie, I’m Billie, and you are quite the gentleman.”
Eddie shifts his weight as a hint of color stains his cheeks. “Well, I try.”
“I’m sure you succeed at everything you try,” Billie murmurs. “Like dancing, am I right?” Then she turns to me. “You don’t mind if yourfriendtwirls me around the dance floor, do you?”
Oh, I mind.
I mind so much I might actually combust.
But I take a long pull of my drink and shrug like I couldn’t care less. “I guess that’s up to Eddie.”
Eddie runs a hand along his jaw. “Actually, I was going to grab a beer?—”
“Later,” Billie cuts in, grabbing his hand as she tugs him toward the floor. “Dance first.”
He glances back at me, uncertain.
I wave him off. “Go ahead. It’s fine.”
Sadly, that’s another lie.
It is not fine.
Not even a little.
Something hot and ugly twists in my chest as I watch Eddie and Billie on the dance floor.
Happy fucking birthday to me.
A front row seat to the guy I really, really like dancing with my cousin, a woman who has never heard a man tell her no.
Billie is awash in energy, too. She’s laughing, talking, leaning in close—way closer than necessary.
Bully for me, Eddie is having just as good a time.
My grip tightens around my glass, my foot tapping an angry rhythm against the stool rung.
They leave the dance floor, but instead of returning to me, Billie backs him against the wall. She says something in his ear, and he leans in to hear her better. Nods. Smiles.
Then he glances over at me, just for a second before redirecting his attention to her, the smile never leaving his face.
Something inside me spirals, as waves of uncertainty flood me.
What the hell are they talking about? Are they laughing at me? Are they planning to leave together? Figuring out how to ditch me?
Cool. Great. Fantastic.
My stomach flips hard enough that the neon pink drinks suddenly feel like a very bad decision.
They stroll over a few minutes later, and my cousin has her hand wrapped around Eddie’s arm, a shit-eating grin on her face.
I’ve never gotten into a fistfight. Not once in forty years. Think it’s about time I crossed that off my bucket list.
Better yet, time to call a cab and go home.
Billie grabs her purse and motions between the two of us. “I’m dipping out for a few. You two behave.”
My head snaps up. “You’re what? Wait, Billie!”
