Page 6 of Resisting You
I tore my gaze away from the teasing curve of her seductive mouth and instead focused ahead at the bartender pouring something pink and fruity from a steel cocktail shaker.
“Probably not,” I admitted.
I could have one good drink and then go back to my low-calorie beers and gin and soda water… basically the only drinks approved by my trainer. And even those, only in moderation.
“Okay, then!” She slapped her palm down on the bar and the sudden shift in volume and tone was enough to make me jump, nearly knocking over the pint of beer near my hand. “What’s your poison?”
“I… don’t know,” I said. “Um, a martini?”
“Tripp! Are you kidding me?” Rosa threw her hands into the air. “We’re in a tiki bar, and you’re going to splurge for the first time in God knows how long, and you’re going to choose amartinilike you’re some sort of James Bond?”
“Are you saying I’mnotJames Bond?”
Her brow lifted. “I don’t know. James Bond always gets the girl. Doyoualways get the girl?” Her teeth slid against her bottom lip and she smiled at me.
Wait a minute. Wait a goddamn minute. Was Rosa…flirting? With me?
She knew damn well I didn’t always get the girl. Because I’d never gottenher.
I paused, ignoring the heavy thrum of my pulse against my jaw. I had to be reading the signs wrong. Rosa wasn’t into me. She wasneverinto me. She had made that perfectly clear.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Well, then why don’tyouorder for me since you’re such an expert on tiki bars, apparently.”
“Oh, Iwillorder for you.” She put her finger in the air. “Hey, Mark! Can we get a pain killer and another strawberry daiquiri for me?”
“You got it, beautiful.” The bartender, Mark apparently, winked at Rosa from across the bar, and the sight caused a weird twisting sensation in my stomach.
“The fact that you already know the bartender bynameis maybe a sign you’ve had too much.”
“Or,” she said, quirking her eyebrow at me, “the fact that youdon’tknow his name is a sign that you haven’t had enough.”
“Uhhh, I don’t think your logic checks out—” I laughed all the same. Rosa had that effect on me. Things just felt easy around her. My laugh, my smile, the conversation… easy.
“And look,” she continued, slurping the last of her drink through the straw. “Not for nothing, but these last few hours have been really stressful. Planning a wedding—even an elopement with only four people—on a moment’s notice is fucking intense.”
Well, that was for sure. “We pulled it off, though.”
I grinned down at her as she offered me a fist bump, which I accepted by tapping my own knuckles to hers. “Hell yeah, we did,” she said. “Best friends of the bride and groom for the win.”
After a few minutes, Mark came by with our drinks and a cocktail napkin with his name and number scribbled onto it. “Here you go, gorgeous.”
It took everything inside of me not to growl—literally growl at the guy. I had no right to feel protective of her. I had no right to stand in the way of a guy trying to give her his number.
Rosa wasn’t mine. But not for lack of trying on my part. Though, she’d never given me a straight answer as to why she said no… not that she owed me that.
After asking her out a few times, and getting rejected a few times, I backed off. But remained her friend, deep down secretly wishing and hoping she’d change her mind and askmeout for once.
I winced, clearing my throat, and nudged the napkin with Mark’s phone number toward her. “Looks like you caught his eye.”
Her nose scrunched and she shrugged. “I’m not interested in him. I’m not sure what’s the kinder way to handle it… take the number and never call him? Or leave his number on the bar so that he knows my intentions.”
Don’t take the number… don’t take the fucking number.
If she had his number, at any moment she could change her mind and booty call him, and since we had adjoining hotel rooms, I was pretty sure I’d hear every fucking moan, which would probably kill me. I didn’t want to hear her being pleasured by any man other than me tonight.
The image of those condoms and the pocket rocket in her purse flooded my memory and I winced, trying to get the thought out of my head by stirring the straw into my blended drink. “Can I ask you something that I hope isn’t disrespectful?”
Her eyebrows tightened in the center of her face as curiosity twisted her features. “Okay…”
