No Weddings (No Weddings #1)(64)

I glanced at her, tilting my head. “I didn’t know you drank vodka tonic.” Aside from the lemon drop martini I’d made for her at the bar, all I’d ever seen her drink was wine, beer, and Champagne. I liked learning another small thing about her.

“Tonight I do.” She grinned. Then she leaned up and pecked my cheek before joining the group sitting on the couch, splitting the difference between the girls and the guys.

I turned my head to find the guys staring at me like some stranger who’d crashed the party, which was almost true with how different I felt being the guy whose world was rocked when his girl pecked his cheek.

Fuck. I should’ve ordered a scotch for that beer to chase.

Glaring at the nonexistent space between Mase and Hannah on the couch, I weighed out how much I needed to be near her tonight with how much shit they’d give me if I shoved him out of the way. Not giving a rat’s ass what the guys thought, I moved toward them. Hannah saved the potential scuffle by scooting closer to the girls, glancing at me with a smile.

When I sat down, she eased closer to me, pressing her thigh flush against mine. Thank f*ck, because it calmed me even further.

Irritated with the guys’ continued scrutiny, I growled, “What?”

Mase held up both hands. “Nothing, man. Just didn’t realize you and Hannah were a thing beyond studying and work.”

Ben’s eyes gleamed with challenge. “Yeah. What happened to your rule about no fraternizing in business?”

Fuck. The guys giving me shit in public hadn’t been something I’d considered. They’d had ample opportunity to witness little things and suspect more, had even accused me of being whipped, but I’d never confirmed or denied.

Kristen sat diagonal to me; Hannah sat across from her husband, Jason. With laser-beam focus, Kristen zeroed in on the conversation. “Yeah, Cade. What happened to your rule?”

Sure. Figured. She wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to give me shit too, even though she was the one who’d suggested Hannah could be good for me, insinuating rules were made for me to break them.

I glared at her as all the girls leaned closer, wanting in on the news.

And I sat in the hot seat.

Used to being on the receiving end of harassment from three unrelenting sisters all my life, this bullshit didn’t faze me, but Hannah sat right beside me. What she felt and thought mattered to me a great deal, and we hadn’t discussed the pressure of the microscope we’d be under.

I pinched my eyes shut and took a deep breath, calming my reaction. How the hell could I define what Hannah and I were when she and I were still figuring it out? The last thing I wanted to do was spook her. We were in a fragile place right now, and her comfort with where we were at was more important than what any of these armchair quarterbacks thought.

“No rule was broken. We aren’t a ‘thing.’” In full view of at least Kristen and Jason, I put my hand on Hannah’s knee, squeezing lightly as a measure of consolation. “We’re friends who came together tonight. So chill the f*ck out.”

I glared at each of them until they all gave in, laughing, nodding, holding their hands up in surrender. Kristen gave me that knowing look, like she suspected more was going on. Let her look, assume whatever she wanted. Nothing to see here. Not yet.

Hannah pressed in close, leaning up to my ear, grabbing my full attention—which, to be honest, was the only place I wanted it to be tonight, scrutiny be damned.

“Will we come together every night?” Her whisper had the heat of a nuclear blast.

I swallowed hard, closed my eyes, and dropped my face onto my hand, sweeping my fingers together over my brow to pinch the bridge of my nose. Frustrated beyond definition, I forced myself to remain patient.

I tilted my head toward Hannah and opened my eyes. Mischief glittered in hers. I narrowed mine, trying to send menacing vibes her way. “Behave.”

Hannah laughed, and I couldn’t help my smile. She was having a good time, and since that was the goal of tonight, I sighed and decided to let her have her fun. Even if it was at my expense.

“Troublemaker,” I growled low at her.

Animated conversation resumed around us. Jason and Ben were embroiled in a heated golf discussion over the latest adjustable Cobra drivers, spurred by watching last weekend’s PGA Valspar Championship. Mase philosophized about the merits of golf as a sport, and I interjected a random comment here and there on both topics.

But we’d had this discussion dozens of times. Philosophy of golf didn’t interest me tonight.

Only the brave woman drinking the vodka tonic beside me did.

While I half listened to the guys, I eavesdropped on the girls. Kristen had booked us another gig, but she was gossiping about the host of the party, which was uncharacteristic of her. Before I could delve into that thought, Kendall brought up the subject of a hot new intern at her architectural firm. I think she said his name was Toby.

Then they all leaned in close, whispering. I heard snippets about Toby’s hot ass, the carved abs Kendall visualized beneath his thin cotton shirt on casual Friday, something about spilled coffee and licking.

I blinked, scrubbing and bleaching my mind of all thoughts having to do with Kendall and licking.

Hannah laughed, leaning back, resting her hand high on my thigh like it belonged there. Warmth from her touch went through the denim, scalding my skin beneath. Then thoughts of Hannah and licking followed. I groaned, gritting my teeth.