Page 29 of Just My Type
Noah
I solemnly swear to never let you go uncaffeinated ever again for the rest of my days. The party is on its way.
Me
I’m counting the minutes.
The second I send the message, I forget that texts don’t send with sarcasm. Goddammit. I am really not thriving right now.
Me
*she says with sarcasm*
Noah
Sorry, I think your last text got lost in the mail. Did you just say you’re counting the minutes until I get there?
Me
I am doing nothing of the sort.
Noah
Liar. An hour or less, Gorgeous, and then Hannah and Noah are taking Vegas by storm.
Me
I have no idea what that even means.
Noah
You don’t have to know, because I do. See you soon, Han.
He adds a winky face emoji and fuck. Is he…flirting with me? I mean, Noah always flirts with me because that’s just who he is, but this feels different, and I don’t hate it. Ugh. A waitress stops by then and sets another round of margaritas on the table, and I grab one with a sigh of relief, taking a long sip and letting the alcohol do its thing to blur the edges of embarrassment and my potential feelings for Noah.
I need to get my shit together, and fast.
“Come on, ladies, it’s time to get our dance on.” I click off my phone and look up as Jo kisses Jordan’s cheek and gets up from her seat. I open my mouth to protest, but Jo holds up a hand, cutting me off. “Hans, I know you’re about to give me ten reasons why you can’t possibly come join me on that dance floor, so I’m going to stop you right there. It’s my bachelorette party, and you look so hot in that dress, it should actually be illegal. You’re standing that hot ass up and coming with me to the dance floor, and I don’t want to hear one single complaint. You, too, genius girl.” Jo swivels her head to look at Amelia, who makes a face and glances over at Elliot with a hopeful expression, like he can save her from Jo’s extrovert attack.
Elliot grins and kisses Amelia’s cheek. “Sorry, Mystery Girl, but the idea of watching you dance down there, knowing you’re mine? Hot as fuck.”
“Ugh, you’re no help. Do we have to?” Amelia glances at me,like I can do something to keep Jo from forcing us onto the dance floor. I can’t. No one can talk Jo out of any of her crazy ideas. There’s a reason Jordan calls her Hurricane.
“You must,” Jo says. “What I need is a full drink and my girls on the dance floor. All rise, ladies. We’re moving.”
I roll my eyes, but Jo just laughs and tugs me up from the bench. Knowing that arguing is futile, I grab a new drink from the tray the server just dropped off and follow my sister down the stairs to the chaos below.
“This is the best day of my life! I loooove Vegas,” Jo squeals, throwing her arm around my shoulders as she shakes her hips entirely out of beat.
My third margarita is doing its thing, and my entire body feels warm and relaxed. The edges of the room are softened, and my senses are blurred enough that the noise and the crowds and the alcohol-soaked dance floor have faded to the background. I don’t feel claustrophobic or sweaty or anxious that the room is so crowded I can’t move an inch without bumping into a sweaty stranger. All I feel is a rush of fondness for my younger sister, and I’m happy to be down here with her and Amelia.
“I’m so fucking happy for you, Jo Jo,” I yell over the music, wrapping my arm around her waist and bumping my hip with hers.
“Me toooo,” Amelia sings, moving to the other side of Jo so the three of us are linked together. “I just love you guys so fucking much. A year ago, I didn’t even know you, and now I have no idea what I would do without you.”
“Aw, Ames.” Jo sniffs. “I love you too, but this night isn’t for emotions. It’s for Deba…debauk…deb…debauchery!” Jo finally stumbles out, then bursts out laughing. Her laughing sets me and Amelia off, and then all three of us are hysterical on the dance floor, arms around each other, and I can’t remember why I ever hateddancing in the first place. Or why I was feeling all keyed up and anxious before.
I feel amazing.
