Destiny on Ice (Boys of Winter #1)(12)

“Alone?” I gesture to all the partygoers. “I’ll hardly be alone. And hell, Lainey, almost everyone here is drunk.”

I’m not exaggerating; there are lots of people stumbling about. Lainey crosses her arms as she takes them all in.

“That’s the problem,” she says, at last. “Plus, there are more guys here than girls. And since they’re all drinking, who knows what they’ll be getting up to later.”

The wheels in my head are turning as I try to come up with a plan to convince Lainey to leave without me. “Okay, tell you what…” I begin.

“Yes?” she replies, arms still determinedly crossed.

I whip out my phone and open the Uber app in front of her. “I’ll order my ride right now in front of you. This way you can go ahead and leave, all with the assurance that your big sister is in good hands.”

“It’s not Uber’s hands I’m worried about,” she mumbles under her breath.

I let out a groan. “Oh, come on, Lainey. Go have fun at this other party. Think about it. My hotel’s out of your way, anyway. You shouldn’t have to drive me all the way across town. If I went with you to this other party I’d probably end up calling for a ride, anyway.” I look down at the phone and start tapping at the screen. “You’d like to at least have a couple of drinks before the night is over, right?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I guess.”

“So, go. You deserve a good time too. Your boring old sister has had the whole evening to cut loose. And trust me, I’ve had a blast. But it’s time for me to get back to being responsible. And that means returning to the hotel and getting my ass to bed.”

“You did say you have an early morning tomorrow,” Lainey mutters, more to herself than to me.

I can tell she’s almost where I want her to be—comfortable with leaving without me.

I hurry her along to that end. “Yes, yes, I have a really early morning,” I fib.

Lainey appears torn, chewing at her bottom lip. She always does that when she’s unsure of something.

I hold up my phone to show her there’s a ride on the way. Hopefully, that’ll assuage her concern.

“Look,” I say, nodding to the screen. “My ride will be here in eighteen minutes.”

Crap, she needs to leave, like now so I can cancel the Uber and start searching for Sunflower Eyes. Hmm, maybe I should think of a more manly-sounding name for him? But until then, back to the point—who knows when I’ll have another chance to be so reckless?

Lainey takes a deep breath, and then releases it on a loud sigh. “You sure you’ll be all right?” she asks.

I peer down at the phone. “For seventeen… No, wait, sixteen more minutes, yes, I think I will survive. “

“Okay, then. Since you have a ride on the way I’ll go.”

Yes!

Her phone buzzes again, and I place my hand on her back to give her an encouraging little shove. “Go, go. That’s probably Margeaux, wondering where you are.”

Lainey turns around and hugs me. I hug her back, holding onto her tightly. “Bye, Aubs,” she says in my ear. “I love you. I’m glad we had this chance to hang out tonight.”

“Me too, sweetie. And I love you too. Bunches and bunches.”

“Call me once you’re settled in. You can tell me all about your new client.” She leans in close and whispers, “I know you can’t give me any specifics, but you can at least let me know if he’s a sex god.”

“You’re so weird.” I playfully push her away. “No names, though, remember?”

“You’re no fun.”

“Go, go,” I say again. “Get out of here.”

Lainey turns to leave, but before she walks away, she says, “Text when you arrive in Vegas so I know you got in safely.”

“I will, I will.”

I watch as Lainey finally departs. Once I’ve lost her in the crowd, I immediately cancel my Uber ride and toss my cell back in my purse.

Then, I begin my search.

But distractions keep me from my goal.

I stop several times when I’m corralled to down shots with various groups of friendly partiers. So much for pacing myself, I get drunker than ever. And—who knew?—drunken me likes to talk to random strangers. Soon, I forget all about the hot guy I was hoping to corner.

“I’m having too much fun,” I mutter to myself as I stumble around. “Everyone is so nice.”

I accidentally wreck into a group of girls at one point. They help me find a downstairs bathroom when I share that my bladder is about to burst. In the bathroom, two of the girls listen to me lament about the state of my current—read: nonexistent—love life.

“I haven’t had what could qualify as a real boyfriend in so long,” I share as I fluff out my shiny dark hair in front of a mirror. “And my last date was a complete bust. I swear I’m cursed. I only meet losers or players. That’s why I’ve pretty much given up on the dating game.”

“Don’t lose heart,” one girl tells me as I gloss my lips. “You’ll find someone.”

Ha. She’s as drunk as I am so I don’t put much stock in her trying-to-be-encouraging words.

As time passes, and back in the party fray, I lose track of my new friends and wander back upstairs. Strolling around the big living room where most of the guests are hanging, I sip at a beer.