“Ehh—”
“If you want me to sweep you off your feet, darling, all you need to do is ask.” Josh reaches for her hand. Viv takes one more sip from her beer, throws a wink in my direction, and takes off toward the stage with Josh.
Luke watches them go, takes another swig and sets his beer on the table, looking down at me. “Did you want to?—”
“Nope, I’m good. Stepping on toes was not on my agenda tonight.”I’m alone with him. Now what?I lift my glass to my mouth and let the liquid courage slide down. Calm, collected on the outside. Absolutely panicking on the inside.
“Okay, good, because I’m a terrible dancer. And besides, I like my toes.” Luke takes Viv’s seat and looks toward her and Josh. I follow his gaze to the dance floor, too. Josh sends her out twirling in one direction and then pulls her back to him again. Viv’s laugh rings out across the crowd.
My attention returns to the table, and I lock eyes with Luke. “Well, that’s absurd.”
“What?” he asks.
“No one likes their toes. It’s a fact.”
He scrunches his face at me and purses his lips. It’s adorable, and I fight the smile that wants to pull at my lips. Instead, I lift my eyebrows in challenge.
“Not true,” he says, lifting his chin and squinting his eyes.
“Ask anyone. I’d be shocked if you found anyone here who truly likes their toes.” I sweep my hand around the room, believing he won’t actually do it.
Silly me. He smiles a real, face-splitting smile that makes my toes curl.
“Fine, Iwillask,” he says.
Well shit.
“You’re just going to walk around asking people about their toes? That can’t be socially acceptable.”
“Hey, Reg!” Ignoring my comment, he cups his hand around his mouth and calls to a man who’s about ten feet away at another table. This Reg guy looks over, and Luke gestures for him to come to the table.
I perch my forehead between my thumb and pointer as Reg moves between people toward us.
Reg looks to be in his sixties or so, with salt-colored hair and enormous glasses. “What do you want, Huff?” His surly voice sounds impatient.
“This pretty lady here, Liv”—Luke gestures to me—“is curious if you like your toes?”
I drop my hand at the mention of my name.Is he serious right now?
“My toes? Why the hell do you wanna know about my toes?” He looks between us, and I want to crawl into my jean jacket and hide. Luke is undeterred.
“Do you like your toes, Reg? Yes or no.”
“Huff, are you drunk?” Reg leans closer to get a better look, lifting his glasses off his face.
“Just answer the question, old man.”
Reg grumbles something about leaving his beer at the table for this nonsense and then sighs heavily. “No, Idon’tlike my toes. I got a big ass bunion, and it hurts like hell. Wanna see it?” Lifting his foot off the ground, he points to his shoe.
“Liv, did you want to see Reg’s bunion?” Luke’s smile is smug as both men turn their attention to me. My cheeks instantly flame red, which I hope they can’t see in the dim lighting as I furiously shake my head no. Reg grumbles again, this time about strange kids, and walks off.
“Alright, Trip, that’s one point for you.”
“Okay, you've made your point. I get it. You clearly have no care for your personal image. This is me raising the white flag. I don’t want to play this game anymore because I, in fact, do care about my image.” I hold an imaginary flag, waving it back and forth, but Luke is not on board.
“And miss seeing your face turn that beautiful shade of red again? Not a chance. Who’s next?” He scans the crowd.
“I really think?—”
