Page 8 of Only for Tonight
He and Brookes burst out laughing until Callie surfaces next to me. “We are about to do another round of shots,” she tells me, then looks at the guys. “It’s a girl thing. Sorry, you aren’t invited.”
“It’s going to be a girls’ thing when you are heaving into the toilet all night long.” Brookes shakes his head. “You would think you would learn.”
“You are ruining my buzz,” Callie accuses.
“Last time you said that”—Maddox points to her—“you threw up in my car.”
“Hey.” Callie points to him. “I paid to have it cleaned.” She glares at him. “And you blackmailed me for about six months. I set you up with five of my friends who have stopped talking to me because you ghosted them."
"I didn’t ghost them,” Maddox denies, “I lost my phone.”
“You have the same number you did when you were ten.” Callie rolls her eyes at him.
“Okay, you two”—I use my mom voice—“to your respective corners. Maddox, I love you big.” I drag Callie away from them and to the bar, where my shot awaits me.
I look over and see that Jaxon is still at the bar, staring at me. “Are you having a shot?” I ask him and he just shakes his head and tries not to smile, but fails. “Borrrinnnngg,” I repeat what I told him before and pick up the shot and then cheers with the girls.
A song comes on and I have just enough time to put down my glass before I’m pulled to the dance floor. “I’ll be back,” I say over my shoulder and all he does is nod at me.
Then he turns around and is in deep conversation with Nash and Gabriel.
I don’t know how long I spend on the dance floor, but one song leads into two, then into three, and all of a sudden we are singing “Dancing Queen” at the top of our lungs.
“It’s really hot,” I note, grabbing my hair in one hand while I fan myself with the other. “I’m going to get some water,” I tell my cousins and my aunts, who are now all busting it up on the dance floor.
I make my way toward the bar, bumping into my Uncle Evan. “Why is it that my niece is here and she hasn’t come up to me and said hello?”
“One,” I say, getting up on my tippy-toes and kissing his cheek, “I haven’t seen you yet because there are about a million people here.” I look around the room, my eyes finding Jaxon with my brother and Maddox, laughing at something. “And two, I saw my aunt when I walked in.”
“She didn’t tell me.” He holds his hand up to cup my cheek. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
I smile at the soft way he looks at me. “You have to say that.”
“Oh, please,” he says, his hand falling from my cheek. “See those two?” He points over to Matthew and Max, who are his brothers-in-law, as they walk our way. He leans in and whispers in my ear, “Those two are ugly as fuck.” I have to stop myself from bursting out laughing. “Hey, there they are, M&M.”
“That fucking nickname,” Max grumbles before smiling at me and leaning down to kiss my cheek. “Hi, sweetheart, how are you doing?”
“Get your mitts away from her.” Evan pushes him away, which gives Matthew a chance to give me a big hug. “Great, now the ogre has her.” I laugh as I give Matthew a kiss on the cheek. “Leave her alone, will you?”
“You know, we speak almost weekly,” Matthew informs him, “and we meet at least once a month for lunch.” He puts his hands in his pockets and raises his eyebrows. “Can you say the same?” he asks him with a huge smile on his face, because he can’t say the same.
“Why the fuck are the two of you having lunch once a month?” my uncle barks at him.
“I don’t have to answer that.” He smiles big, goading him on.
“As much fun as this is”—I look at them, seeing Max just shaking his head as Evan glares at Matthew, who just smirks at him—“I need water.”
I move around Matthew and head to the bar to grab a bottle of water. I walk through the crowd looking up at the pictures scattered through the room. I spot Jaxon in front of another picture of his father and my father. He looks at it and I can see him laughing to himself, memories. “What’s so funny?” He looks to the side where I’ve stopped and am standing next to him.
“Do you remember this?” He points his finger to the picture. “It was, I think, the second game in the playoffs. You wanted to catch a puck, so I thought it was a good idea to put you on my shoulders.” I gasp, now remembering the story. “And?—”
“And you tilted forward a little too much and I hit my face on the glass,” I fill in the rest of the story. “I saw stars that night.”
“Why wouldn’t you hold out your hands?” he asks me, as if it was my fault I face-planted in the glass.
“I was holding on to the side of your head, trying to steady myself,” I defend my actions. “I spent the rest of the night in the kids’ room with an ice pack on my face.” I push his shoulder. “Thanks for that memory.”
“You had a lot of faith in me.” He moves his hands to his pants pockets, making his chest feel like it’s puffed out even more.
