Page 63 of Party Favors

“Never mind. Let’s just have fun and be ourselves.” Another reminder to both of us.

“With your requirements, I hate to tell you that it’s going to be one or the other. Max!” she exclaimed, holding out her arms to hug him hello.

Keeping my jealousy from spilling over was not easy.

“Good to see you again, Vella. I’m glad you’re here. Everly has told me so many good things about you.”

“Really? I’m not very nice.”

He grinned. “She also told me you were funny.”

“I’m just mean and people think I’m joking.”

When he laughed, she turned to me with a “see?” expression, like he’d proved her point.

“Everly.” He said my name and my heart stuttered in response. He reached for me and pulled me to him. He hugged me, holding me tight. As if he’d missed me.

“Max,” was all I could manage to say in response to being held in his arms. This felt so perfect, like I’d been made just to be held by this man. I couldn’t help myself. I buried my face against his neck, breathing in his warmth and that amazing scent of his.

It hadn’t been that long since we’d last seen each other, but he was acting like he’d just returned home from war.

He let go of me only when Vella very loudly cleared her throat and said, “Should we go inside? Some of us are freezing.”

We walked over to the door and I reached for my purse, but Max held his hand out. “Tonight it’s my turn. I’m taking you out to thank you, remember?”

Oh, I remembered. Very clearly.

“Nice getup, Tex,” Vella told him.

Max smiled at her. “I figured when in Rome.”

He paid the cover charge and we went into the bar. A band I’d never heard of was playing on the stage, and people were dancing in formation. I might have bounced up and down a couple of times in excitement. I hadn’t danced like this in so long.

“You’re going to have to show me the steps,” Max said in my ear, and all of my ramped-up energy focused away from the dancing and to the way his lips were so close to my skin.

“Sure!”

“Country music?” Vella said, leaning against the bar and glaring at everyone. “I’ve never understood it. All the songs by men are about wanting to marry and/or knock up girls in tiny shorts while getting drunk, and all the songs by women are about murdering their husbands.”

“That’s basically it,” I confirmed with a smile.

“And why are there so many men in here with unironic mustaches? Half the guys in here look like they’re villains who escaped from a silent black-and-white movie. I don’t know why I even bother. Men suck.” She glanced at Max. “No offense.”

“Some taken,” he said.

“Should we get something to drink?” I asked, realizing that it might have been a mistake to invite Vella if she was in one of her moods. I supposed that on the plus side, she was definitely making sure that this evening was not at all date-like.

But I was worried she might end up annoying Max and chasing him off. And even though I knew we could only be friends, I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.

Even if it wasn’t a good idea.

A brave cowboy swaggered up to us, sporting his villain mustache, and doffed his hat at Vella. “Do you want to dance, darlin’?”

She looked over at me with a dramatic expression and said, “I guess I have to do what your farm emo songs suggest and save a horse by dancing with a cowboy.”

“Riding a cowboy,” I corrected, and flushed when I saw from her sneaky smile that she’d set me up for that one. She went onto the dance floor and nobody was more shocked than I was when she fell into line perfectly, never missing a step.

“Shall we give it a whirl?” Max asked, offering me his hand.

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