Page 78 of The Time It Takes
I was surprised his parents were allowing this, but I wasn’t going to question it.
I asked for two shots because I needed a distraction from the girl groping my best friend in my peripheral view. Alright, fine—not groping, but her hand was on hisknee. It was incredibly difficult to not go smack it away. I was kind of hoping he’d do that himself, but he didn’t. He let her.
As if he could sense me looking at him, his head lifted, and our eyes met. Everything else went away for a moment, but it was cut short when my eyes darted to the hand on him that was not mine and I was back to being surrounded by oblivious people.
He followed my gaze and lifted an amused brow in challenge. My glare hardened and the corner of his mouth lifted. I narrowed my eyes at him. He let me boil inside a little more before shifting his body so that her hand fell away.
I slid the shot glasses toward me as Ben grabbed his beer and shot me a wary look.
“Do you have something to say, brother?” I asked harshly, ready to defend myself.
His head lolled back with a grimace as he took in the shot glasses sitting in front of me. “Please tell me that’s not tequila.”
I slowly grinned before throwing back one of the shots. My senses went on overload and the bitterness caused my face to scrunch. The back of my hand flew to my mouth as I shook my head as if it’d help weaken the burn.
“If I have to carry you home, I won’t be happy about it.”
I laughed, but it sounded dead even to my ears. “I’d like to think I could at least manage to crawl.”
He pretended to not be amused by this response, but I caught the twitch of his lips.
I tried to attempt a quick peek over my shoulder where Oliver was. The girl’s leg was now hooked over his thigh, practically in his lap, and whispering something in his ear. He wasn’t paying attention to her though. His eyes were on me.
The tequila suddenly wanted to make a reappearance. My glance wasn’t quick enough because when I turned back to Ben, he already followed my gaze. When his eyes fell back on my face, I hated that they were full of concern.
I waved an airy hand at him. “It’s a party, fix your face.” I downed the second shot. That time, not feeling a thing.
He gave me a contemplative nod before ordering me a drink. My brother could so easily read my moods and I loved him so much for it. The bar dude, man—whatever you call him set the drink down in front of me. I took a sip of it. It was strong as hell, which was exactly what I needed.
We looped our pinkies, and he pressed a kiss to my head, patting me on the shoulder firm enough to shake my body.
“Be careful tonight and play nice.” Then he was walking away and clasping hands with a guy in greeting before I could respond.
I watched closely as he mingled with people I’d never seen before. I studied them with a sense of caution crawling up my spine.
Ben must have invited them, not that I blamed him for not wanting to be surrounded by high schoolers, but those guys looked like they were in their late thirties at least.
They were too old for Ollie to know them. Usually, I knew all of Ben’s friends, mostly because they were my friends too or they sometimes came and hung out at the house to play video games.
I watched them exchange something through a sly handshake. My eyes narrowed and just as I was about to dart toward him with a mouthful, someone was grabbing me from behind.
“Hey, gorgeous.” I recognized Taylor’s voice instantly.
He released me and I spun to face him. I was greeted with ocean-blue eyes and a charming face. I’d have to deal with Ben later then. I’d rather not make a scene in front of everyone for Ollie’s sake.
“Hello, handsome,” I chimed with a fiendish smile.
Taylor had one of those smiles that could charm the socks off anyone. When I first met him, it took me a while to get over it and remind myself he was an actual human being and not some godly robot.
I planted a quick kiss on his cheek, and he spun me around. Dylan and Phoebe appeared from behind him.
I offered Dylan a polite smile—one that saidI don’t hate you, but I do hate someone very in particular that you associate with.“Dill pickle,” I state as a greeting.
He grinned at that. “You know, I think I could get used to that.”
Phoebe looked at me, tilting her head as she rolled her eyes, but smiling all the same. “You’re in good spirits.”
I frowned. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”
