Unexpected Gift(32)

Kenna hops down from her seat, and before she gets away from me, I reach out and grab her arm, stopping her from leaving me alone. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to go dance.”

“No. You weren’t supposed to actually agree. You weren’t supposed to say yes.”

She starts to back away, giving me come hither gestures. “What? Afraid, Molls? It’s just dancing.”

Kenna gets far enough away that I’m not able to keep the grip on her arm. She waves her fingers at me and slides her eyes to a man talking to his friend right beside her. She grabs him by the T-shirt, and for a second, he is shocked, staring at her with wide eyes, until he actually sees her. The tall, dark-haired man wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close. The little witch gives me a daring expression before turning around and leading him toward the sea of people who sway on the dance floor.

“Oh, so it’s like that,” I mumble against the glass, cursing her confidence. “I shouldn’t have called her bluff.”

“You know, I hear if you talk to yourself, it’s a sign that you’re going crazy.” A deep voice says from behind me.

I cross my legs and turn in my chair, facing a very attractive man. He is tall, blonde, and has green eyes. He also seems like the type that likes to get around. I had never been a part of that statistic for a man. Maybe I should. I should just lose it. I should get drunk and lose my pathetic virginity that I’ve held on to for twenty-seven years, which is kind of sad. No woman is a virgin at my age. Here I am though, and the only experience I have with a man is kissing, and one, maybe two boob grabs.

Pathetic.

“Is that, so?” I do my best to flirt, twirling the straw in the drink hottie bartender gave me. Oh, is that wrong? To sip on the drink another man gave me while talking to someone else?

He leans his elbows against the table and stares at me with his perfectly parted hair, and all I can think about is how it isn’t as thick or wavy as Caden’s. His eyes aren’t the same color, and he doesn’t have the same energy about him. He is so different.

Which is good because Caden is bad. So different is good. I need different because Caden is about to be my roommate. And that is all it is.

“Yeah, do you need someone to talk to or something? I’m all ears for a beautiful woman such as yourself.”

I might be a virgin, but I know a line when I hear one. I sip my drink and flip my hair over my shoulder. “My friend. The woman with the tattoos and dark blue hair, this week, she likes to change it all the time. We had a bet, and she is currently dancing with it.” I point to Kenna, rubbing her butt all over the guy she plucked from the bar.

“What was the bet if you don’t mind me asking?” He signals the hottie bartender who glares at him. “Can I get another?”

“Sure. And for the lady?” He smiles at me, showing his perfect teeth. Literal perfection. Not one is slightly crooked.

“Um, I really like this sex on the beach,” I whisper, feeling that blush take over my face again.

“Really? Well, if you like that, you’d love a screaming orgasm.”

“Wow, dude, really?”

I glare at the blonde… dude? People still say dude?

“What, afraid she would rather want sex on the beach and a screaming orgasm with me than a dumb jock conversation with you?”

Oh, this is happening. Two guys are actually going to argue over me? Wow, first time for that.

The blonde stands to his full height, flexing his muscles in his very tight shirt that my eyes won’t rip themselves away from; still the testosterone suffocates me. “You have a lot a nerve trying to hit on a woman behind the bar. What is she supposed to do? Believe you actually mean what you say? Don’t you hit on women for a living? How else are you supposed to get tips?”

Huh, I hadn’t thought of that. “Okay, guys. This isn’t about me. It is about you and your pissing contest, which I actually want nothing to do with. So, I’m saying no, to both of you, and I’d really just like another tequila, please. You took the bottle.”

“Whatever,” the blonde huffs and storms away.

The bartender seems a bit more ashamed. “I’m sorry about that. I see that guy in here all the time. I just thought you could do better than him. And don’t worry about your tab. It’s on me.”

“Oh, thank you. But you don’t have to do that.”

“I do. And just so you know, I don’t flirt with all the women.” He sits my shot down, giving me one last, longing smile before turning and helping other customers.

I don’t let the alcohol sit there for another second before downing it. I pour myself one more glass before deciding to take matters in my own hands and go on the dance floor. I can dance by myself; I don’t need a partner.

Straightening my dress, I stand, making sure my ass isn’t showing. “Okay. You got this.” I tell myself, wiping the corner of my lip to get the stray bead of tequila. I start toward the dance floor. The music pulsates through the air, buzzing around body and freeing my mind from all the convoluted thoughts.

It has been a few weeks since we buried Brandon and Amelia. I have cried, screamed, been angry, felt sad, and experienced what it’s like to be depressed. I have hated them for dying, apologized for hating them for dying, been angry at Posie for keeping me awake at night and been annoyed with Caden for being so damn perfect recently.