“They’re getting drinks, too,” Darcy says. “They left Killian behind to guard me, because apparently, that’s necessary.”
She rolls her eyes, annoyed but not frustrated. And before you ask, there’s totally a difference.
“I’m not a guard. I’m just a lookout,” Killian says, shrugging.
Darcy and I both snap our heads toward him, narrowing our eyes. He looks from my face to hers, and then he drops his shoulders. He leans back into his seat, crossing his arms over his wide chest.
“Fine, I’m a guard,” he mumbles.
We both erupt with laughter, knowing this sets the tone for the rest of the night. And after the week I’ve had, I need a night like this.
I turn and scan the crowd, observing circles of friends and couples, all having fun. The dance floor is full, and the band is actually reallygood.
“So, what kind of guy are we looking for tonight?” Darcy asks.
“I’d rather not focus on that. I just want to have a good time.”
“Right, but you said you need to move on,” Darcy whispers, leaning in closer to me.
I lift my shoulders and drop them again, letting out a single dramatic sigh. She’s right. Maybe it won’t hurt to look. Right? Ugh, then why does it feel so wrong? No. I’m not going to do this to myself. I’m not going to punish myself or feel bad about something that I’m completely free to do.
“I don’t know, tall and dreamy? A little rugged around the edges? Tattoos would be nice.”
“You’re just describing your roommate,” Darcy says, using her whisper-yell.
“Fine, I’ll take an average-sized man with delicate hands and a flawless porcelain complexion!” I whisper-yell back to fight fire with fire.
“I see your point,” she says. “How about we just try for a nice guy and see where that takes us?”
“Great.”
The guys—all of them—return together with drinks. Waylon hands me a Paloma and sets a water on the table for me.
“Thank you.”
He nods, giving me that grin of his. He takes a sip from the glass in his other hand. It’s a dark liquid.
“It’s just Coke,” he says. “What am I supposed to sip? Water with a lime wedge or something equally disgusting?”
“No, but it clears up something for me.”
“What’s that?”
“You never touch the salads I prepare. No water with fruit. I get it. You like the things that are bad for you.” I smirk and take a sip of my Paloma.
“Don’t I know it,” he says, his words slipping out under his breath.
My heart beats a little faster in my chest. Because what the hell is that supposed to mean? No, I’m reading into nothing.Don’t do that. Don’t make something out of nothing, I remind myself.
“Who’s ready to dance?” Darcy shouts. She grabs Ridge by the hand, pulling him toward the floor. The poor man barely has time to set his drink down, but he’d never tell her no. They’re so in love, it’s disgusting.
Banks rolls his shoulders, scanning the room until his eyes land on a group of women in the corner.
“Kill, you coming?” he asks, nodding his head toward them.
“No, man, that’s all you,” Killian says. “Good luck and Godspeed.”
Banks shrugs and heads off in their direction. He’s such a smooth operator type. He’s got that pretty face that screams boy band, but he’s tattooed from his neck to his fingertips. So he’s like a boy band member gone bad. And I don’t know a woman alive who wouldn’t fall for that.
