Page 36 of Road Trip to Forever
“‘Stacey’s Mom’ is one of my favorite songs.”
“Are you even old enough to remember when MTV showed actual music videos?” I ask.
“Hey,” he says. “Age is just a number. That’s Leonardo DiCaprio’s philosophy anyway.”
“That,” I answer, “and the theory I have that he’s madly in love with Kate.”
“Theory? You mean a proven fact.” The bartender leans his elbows on the counter, drawing close to me. “How do you know the couple?”
“Kate and Leo? From watchingTitanicon VHS years before you were born,” I say.
He lets out a laugh. “Funny. I like you.”
“If you meant the couple of the hour tonight, my best friend was roommates with Henry, the groom, in college. He added the bride to our group when they started dating a few years ago. What about you?”
“My brother is an attorney. He works with Henry and Emma at their firm. Henry offered a generous amount of cash for three hours of my time and bartending skills.” He sets the drink down and scoots it my way. “I’m a senior in college. I can’t tell you shit about economics, but I can make a mean drink.”
I lift the glass in his direction and take a sip. I cough as the alcohol works its way down my throat. All whiskey, and not a hint of ginger ale. “Holy hell. This isstrong. I can see why it’s empty over here. Everyone’s already blackout drunk.”
“Means better tips.”
“A businessman. You know more about economics than you think.”
“I’m Liam.”
“Lola. Thanks for the hearty libation. I should find the bride and figure out my responsibilities for the night. It’s probably to keep an uncle away from the DJ’s microphone, or some other task of similar importance. Can’t have any embarrassing stories about botched first kisses or someone’s first hangover going around.”
“It’s for the best. I’d flirt with you if you stayed, then you’d shoot me down because there’s a guy heading this way who I’m guessing is your boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Are you sure? He looks like he wants to murder me with his bare hands and—” Liam squints, then nods. “Yup. Definitely wants to devour you.”
I spin on the stool and almost fall off the seat when my eyes connect with Patrick’s.
“That’s my best friend,” I explain. I throw back the rest of my drink and stand.
“Friend, huh? Could’ve fooled me.”
“Lola,” Patrick says, interrupting our conversation.
Goosebumps erupt on my skin as he says my name, an exaltation behind the two syllables. I wonder how it would sound if he whispered it in my ear and told me I was beinggood.
My cheeks turn warm at the vision of his hand trailing up my leg and over my knee, disappearing under my dress as he pressed me against a wall. A dark corner, surrounded by all of our friends who wouldn’t have a clue. I clear my throat and awkwardly wave, thankful he can’t see my wicked thoughts. “Hey. What’s up?”
“You look—” Patrick pauses then mumbles something incoherent under his breath. He runs his hands through his hair and tugs on the dark brown strands. It’s curling a little on the sides, just above his ears, where it’s still damp from the shower he took earlier in the afternoon before we parted ways to get ready.
“Hot?” Liam supplies, the one to break the silence.
It’s laced with mirth, and I wish I could capture the flash of anger on Patrick’s face. The way his fingers fold over each other to form a fist and how he shoves his hands into his pockets. He rocks back on his heels and throws a death glare over my shoulder.
“Patrick, this is Liam. Liam, this is my best friend Patrick,” I say.
“Can I get you a drink, man?” Liam asks with a grin. “A friend of Lola’s is a friend of mine.”
“Gin and tonic,” Patrick says, adding a grumbled “please” at the end of his order.
I bite my lip to keep from smiling.
