Page 94 of Bridesmaid for Hire
He shakes his head as his hand moves farther up my thigh. “Terrified.”
And that brings a smile to my face as I lean my chin on my hand and take in his handsome features. “I can settle with terrified.” I wet my lips again. “Okay, you go first.”
He removes his hand from my leg and holds it in front of me. “Pinky promise me, princess.”
“Pinky promise what?” I ask.
“That you’ll tell me your story after I tell mine.” He holds his hand steady, his pinky sticking out.
Rolling my eyes, I hook my pinky with his and he brings our connection to his lips, kissing his thumb, then making me do the same.
“Happy?” I ask.
He slowly nods as his hand returns to my thigh, sliding across it again and causing my internal muscles to twitch with excitement as he nears closer to my hip bone.
“It was my junior year, near the end of the semester,” he says, leaning in and lowering his voice. “I got so wasted that I honestly don’t believe this story, but there was picture evidence so I had no choice.”
“Ooh, I’m excited,” I say as I drop my hand to his and run my fingers over the back of his wrist, far too comfortable, but not caring one bit.
The mai tais are in control.
“So, I was wasted off some magical concoction the guys made and all lubed up with lip balm, ready for a solid make out session.”
“A McFadden Make Out,” I say.
He grins. “Damn right. And I was on the prowl. There was this one girl I was looking for. The guys told me that I kept asking for a girl in a brown dress. I eventually wound up outside during my search—and it turns out I found her.”
“Oh God.” I smile. “Did you make out with a guy? Because that would be amazing.”
He shakes his head. “If only.”
I think about it for a second. “Wait, it wasn’t a guy? Then what was it?”
“Well, I found someone in brown…or you could saysomethingbrown.”
My eyes widen. “Oh my God, Brody. Did you make out with poop?”
“What?” He winces, his entire face morphing in disgust. “Jesus, no.”
“Oh, well you said it was worse. I just went there, I guess.”
“Yeah, I would never be that drunk, thanks for the vote of confidence.”
I pat his cheek. “You’re welcome.”
He turns his head and nips at my hand, making me squeal and pull away, chuckling.
Yup…we…are…drunk.
“It wasn’t poop—thanks for that—nope, it was the blowup reindeer that we used to decorate the backyard for our Christmas party.”
“Stop,” I say, laughing.
“Yup, I believe it was Comet. Tongue action and all. I cupped his chesttoo. The picture was incriminating. And in all honesty, I may not really remember it, but I do remember thinking it was the best fucking kiss I’d had all year.”
I shake my head as I chuckle. “That is pathetic.”
He stares off to the side and whispers, “Sometimes I still think about that night.”
