Page 40 of Wish Lists and Road Trips

“Oh,” Brit whispered. “Was that awingman melook? I thought it was ahelp melook. My bad.”

What the hell was she talking about? I hadn’t given her any look and I certainly didn’t want Brit towingmanme. Of all the—

“I got you,” she said, giving me an exaggerated wink. She turned to the group of women. “Just kidding! This is my friend Nick.” She shoved me, and because I wasn’t expecting it, I actually stumbled forward. “He’s like a bazillionaire. Owns a ton of property in the Northeast.”

The women oohed and Brit joined them.Jesus Christ.

“I’m not a—”

She put her hand to her mouth and made a poor attempt at a whisper. “He drives a Range Rover.”

I shot her a look that said knock it off.

She ignored me. “Anyway, he’s kind of shy.”

“Bridget,” I ground out, but she was fully invested in this now.

“We’re from out of town, and well, he’s sort of terrible at making friends, talking to people, smiling.” She pouted. “Think you ladies can show him a good time?”

A tall blonde, whose sash saidMaid of Honor, stepped toward me. She had on a tiny denim skirt and cowboy boots, and her tank top stopped high enough to show off a strip of hard, tan stomach. I preferred the view of Brit’s midriff. It was softer, like you could sink your teeth into it.

That thought burst in before I could stop it and I huffed out an exasperated sigh at myself, at her, at the fact that I was there at all. How did this night turn around so quickly?

The other women sucked Brit into their boisterous circle, but the blonde had cornered me with the beer I’d been enjoying not five minutes before.

“Are you really a bazillionaire?” she asked. She was all flirt, her red fingernail pressing into my chest just hard enough to pinch, and I felt my neck get warm.

I had no problem talking to women, at least in the beginning when there was nothing of substance to say. I could flirt when I wanted to, be charming when there was nothing on the line. But I didn’t want to. I’d only agreed to come here for Brit, and I was irritated that she’d shoved me off on this woman instead.And where the hell did she go?

She was just beside me a minute ago, but now I couldn’t find her.

I looked over the blonde’s head. “I’m not,” I said, nervous when I didn’t see any white dresses.

“That’s fine,” she said with a smile that was pure sex. She flattened her palm on my chest, leaning close enough that I could taste her perfume. “I’m not looking for a sugar daddy. I own my own business and—”

“That’s great. Look, I have to find my friend. She’s really unpredictable. She should probably be medicated. Brit!” I called for her but the music drowned me out. Were all of these people here before? How hard could it be to find a little bouncing ball of light? “Brit?”

A loud cheer erupted from the other end of the bar and I turned to see the rest of the women from the party, and Brit, all lined up. They laughed with their heads tipped back like baby birds while the bartender came by and squirted some sort of pink liquor into their mouths. A pack of college-age guys cheered them on.

I pushed past the blonde, making my way toward Brit, but before I got there, one of the women in a tiara and a faux-leather dress hauled herself up on a bar stool, then stepped up onto the bar itself.

For fuck’s sake.As soon as I realized what was about to happen, I knew Brit was next. She couldn’t help herself; she was like a magnet when it came to reckless behavior. With a little push from one of the frat boys, she climbed up, raising her drink over her head while she twirled and laughed with the other women.

The guy in the camo baseball cap had found her too. I still didn’t like the way he was looking at her, his tongue lapping at the corner of his mouth like a dog eyeing a steak. When his hand fell to his belt buckle, I elbowed my way in front of him. “Eyes off, asshole.”

He shoved back, spitting a couple of profanities my way, but I had pounds and inches on him and he must have decided I wasn’t worth it. “Brit! What are you—”

She tossed me a smile and the admonishment died on my tongue. The hue from the stage lights made her skin glow and her hair look like autumn leaves on fire. I stared up at her—rosy cheeks, that dress tied around her pretty neck, mile-long legs. She lifted the hem of her dress as she danced, teasing me with a glimpse of her thigh. When my boxers had ridden up on her giving me the same view, I’d felt it in my cock. But now the pressure was in my chest, thudding against my ribs. Every once in a while, she’d turn over her shoulder to look at me, make sure I was still there standing guard, then she’d twirl again. I could have watched her forever, spinning in that white dress.

Then her shoe slipped, and her drink sloshed, and it was like someone dumped cold water on my head.

Be responsible, Nick.

“Brit, please get down,” I called over the music. I’d learned my lesson about telling her what to do, but she really needed to get on solid ground before she broke her neck, so I asked nicely. “You’re in heels on a bar covered in beer.”

She gave me a dramatic eye-roll but there was laughter in it.

“Please?”

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