Page 15 of Getting Lucky Number Seven

Jeff stared at me, mouth ajar.

I shoved him forward. “What are you waiting for? Go already.”

As he headed toward her, his reluctance clear, I realized I might’ve gone too far. With sending him. With telling him I’d hurt him if he touched her. Shit, I felt like some kind of kissing pimp now.

“Hi,” a blonde breathed at me as she pushed her body against my side. Under normal circumstances, I’d make small talk. See where it led. It’d been long enough that I was tempted, but then Jeff reached Lyla, and I was watching her flash him a smile. When he first offered her the drink, she hesitated, but then Jeff gestured at me. I nodded to let her know it was from me and she took the cup from him.

Letting him talk, good… Just be cool, girl.

The blonde got offended and walked off, which reminded me that I’d never called Monica back, and that if I did, she’d yell so long it wouldn’t be worth it. Cross that one off the list. She was probably too hot and cold to be even a semi-steady thing anyway. Drag it out much longer and regardless of her claim to be cool with our arrangement, she’d suddenly show up at hockey practices, thinking watching me train somehow equaled getting closer. Not only was I not interested in a relationship, I didn’t have time to maintain one, keep up with classes,andlead my team to playoffs.

After a couple of minutes of nodding at whatever Jeff was saying, Lyla glanced around. I moved closer, waiting to see if she made any other signs she was over talking to him. She swayed, putting her fingers to her forehead, and I realized I’d overestimated how much she could drink. From the looks of things, it was catching up to her fast.

“Hey, guys,” I said. “Lyla, I see you met Jeff. He’s on the hockey team with me.”

He gave me a look that said I was no longer considered on his list of friends.Jeez, be a little bitch about it, why don’t you?

“Everything’s a little spinny,” Lyla said with a laugh. She wobbled and clamped onto my arm. “My lips feel funny.”

Jeff glanced from her to me and slowly backed away, shaking his head.

Lyla turned her big hazel eyes up to me. “I didn’t say anything about my cats,” she slurred. “He seemed nice, and he was talking about hockey, but then his head kinda separated in two and I decided making out with someone I don’t—or kissing a beautiful stranger—or what was it again…?”

I took the red cup out of her hand—she must’ve been nervous because she’d already downed it. “Okay, no more drinking.”

“Dancing?”

“How about we find a place to sit? You did eat tonight, didn’t you?”

She tugged my arm, heading toward the section where everyone was wildly flinging themselves around, the beat forgotten with their inhibitions. “Dancing.”

Considering the path my thoughts kept straying down—and that waswithoutour bodies being smashed together—I couldn’t think of a worse idea. But she gave another hard tug, her resolve clear.

Well, hell. Apparently, we were dancing.

Chapter Nine

Lyla

Every once in a while, I’d bump into Beck, but he’d just laugh and steady me, so I figured he didn’t mind. My head felt pleasantly floaty, and I was pretty proud of the fact that I wasn’t even slightly nauseous. Weirdly enough, standing still and walking were way more challenging than dancing right now. It was like the beat told my body where to go when it wasn’t sure, and I was already swaying, so I just went with it. Man, I loved to dance!

Near the end of the second song, Beck gave me a funny look, the line of his jaw tight. His chest rose and then fell with a deep breath, almost like he was fortifying himself.

“What?” I asked, trying to stop swaying and totally failing until I put a hand on his arm.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Just tell me, I can take it.” I cringed, already expecting the worst. “I’ve been singing too loud, right? When I get excited, I really belt it out, which is bad, because I’m totally tone deaf.”

The crooked smile he gave me eased the anxiety trying to work its way through my happy buzz. “The singing’s fine. I like how you make up your own lyrics instead of singing the right ones.” He put his hand on my hip, pulled me close, and hovered his lips next to my ear. My stomach crawled up to my throat and I wrapped my hand around his biceps, my thumb running across the curve there. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this was a bad idea, but the other sensations were louder—racing pulse, fuzzy pleasantness, his firm body pressed against me, his hand sliding around to rest on my back. “You’ve got several guys checking you out, and you’re wasting all your cute on me. Why don’t you go circulate?”

Beck stepped back, his sudden absence a shock to my revved up body.Other guys? Huh?

Then I noticed two girls eye-humping him, and they didn’t look like they’d mind sharing him, either. He glanced their way and then slowly back at me.

“Right. You want to meet girls.” That sufficiently doused the happy from my mood. I shook my head, feeling like a moron. Stupid alcohol, glorious one moment and making you think idiotic thoughts about one of your closest friends the next. “I’ve gotten in your way a lot lately. I wasn’t even thinking. Go, pick up a girl, or at least get a few numbers. I’ll be fine on my own for a bit.”

“Lyla, that’s not it. It’s not like I can’t go without for a while.” He curled his hand around the brim of his baseball cap, molding it the way he did when he needed to keep his hands busy. “I just wasn’t sure if you were going to check another item off your list. Wasn’t that what this party’s all about?”

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