Page 70 of Denial
“You want another drink, you get it from me. Not him,” I rasp. I stare at her face, eyes pleading.
The chirpy smile she sends him pisses me right the fuck off. “I’ll meet you at the bar. I just want to say hi to my friends.”
He tips his hat like a fucking tool, then walks to a vacant stool.
“He’s not going to do anything,” she says, pinning me with an arctic glare.
“You sure you’re safe with him?”
Her dark eyes flit to the side in that way she does from time to time. It’s like she’s hiding something, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
“What is wrong with you?” she snaps, and I can’t help it. The reaction gives me a jolt of satisfaction. At least when she’s pissed at me, she’s not indifferent. She can’t pretend that I don’t exist.
“You’ve got a way of attracting the wrong kind of attention.”
“Is that why I’m spending so much time around you?” She bats her eyelashes as she lands that bomb.
“Hey, Alice. Let me buy you a drink.” Jude interrupts our public showdown. “Frankie doesn’t drink, so it’s not often I get to buy a beautiful girl her next round.”
Both of us turn to him in time to see Frankie pull away from his neck. She gives Alice a blatant wink and a thumbs-up.
“That’s really sweet of you, Jude. Thanks. I’ll go tell my friend he can save his cash for the next one.” Alice sends me another piercing glare, effectively letting me know this battle isn’t over.
The tug of her arm suggests I let go. I loosen my grip, trailing my fingers down her wrist until my thumb lands in her palm. Her skin is like velvet, soft and warm, tempting me to hold on for a beat longer. But she’s not in the mood to stick around and takes off to the bar like her ass is on fire.
“Dude.” That comes from Jack.
“You’re fucked.” Jude’s huff is wrapped in humor.
“Were we all like that?” Lee asks.
I pin him with irritated eyes. “Without a doubt.”
But this is different. Because Alice isn’t anything but my nanny. She doesn’t have feelings for me, and I don’t want to have feelings for her.
Even if we did, I know exactly where those feelings can lead.
And for me? It’s not somewhere that I want to go. I’m not sure I’m even capable.
Alice stays at the bar to chat with her new friend. She turns down his offer for a drink, gesturing to our table. Probably telling him about Jude buying her a round. When they make their way back to the dance floor three songs later, she navigates through the other side of the room, deliberately avoiding me.
Try as I might, I can’t keep my attention off her. Off them. I tell myself I’m watching my friends and family dance.
Those aren’t the first lies I’ve told myself tonight.
Maybe it’s a trick of the light. Or the distance. But I swear every few minutes, her eyes return to mine from across the room.
I polish off my beer, calling it quits. I need to be able to drive after this. By the trajectory of my night so far, I’ll be taking my leave sooner than later. Much sooner. The thought of returning to an empty, quiet home sounds pretty damn good right about now.
The people at my table come and go. Nobody attempts to engage me in further conversation, leaving me to stew in my thoughts. Fine by me.
Shania Twain’s “Any Man of Mine” filters through the speakers next. This dance seems more complicated. Half the floor empties out. The girls stay beside Alice, attempting to follow her sure steps. Unfortunately, that fucker sticks close too. He bumps into her too frequently to look like an accident. She takes it in stride. She corrects him with gestures, pointing at her feet and which direction to go.
The song ends, and he sweeps her into his arms. Alice presses her palms into his shoulders, back arched to gain some distance, but laughs at something he says. In one practiced move, he plucks his hat off his head and buries her black curls beneath it.
The slow sound of my chair scraping across the floor is enough to turn my brothers’ heads.
