Page 9 of Mostly My Girlfriend
“The fuck? Whatever,” the guy said, releasing his hold on Jules.
I took her in my arms and didn’t think about how good it felt. The shots were starting to go to my head, and I was okay with that. It was a party after all.
A break from our reality. Could I do that? Could we? One night when we weren’t Ethan and Julia, two friends who had known each other since college, who were working together to change the world.
But maybe, instead, tonight we could be something else. Someone else.
“You are so mean,” she accused me even as she settled into my arms.
“Was I wrong?”
“No. He was getting a bit too bold too quickly. But I’m a little tipsy, so I was actually considering it. You probably saved me from a very bad idea.”
“Really?”
“I’m horny,” she said, even as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “And drunk. Did I mention that I’m drunk? I gave myself permission to let go tonight.”
“I like drunk Jules. I see her very infrequently.”
Not since college, actually. There had been a night that first year. My only year. St. Patrick’s Day, but I didn’t like to think about it, because it hadn’t ended well. Tonight, there wasn’t anything that could go wrong. We could drink and dance and get drunk, knowing we would protect each other.
She pressed herself against me and I pulled her close.
Yes, I thought. It’s a different kind of night. With none of our history in the way. Just a moment removed from time. We could have this.
* * *
After the wedding
Ethan
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she muttered against my mouth.
“No,” I said, cupping her face in my palm so I could take our kiss even deeper. “We can have this. Just this night.”
I pressed her against the door of my hotel room, my thigh between hers, pushing against her in a way that had her moaning when I slipped my tongue into her mouth.
This was Jules, but it wasn’t. We were playing a game. Two people who happened to meet at a wedding. It had started as silly teasing. I called her Leslie and she called me Patrick and we laughed about it because it was ridiculous. And I talked her into coming to my room for one last drink. And she’d said yes, because like me, she didn’t want the night to end.
So we were pretending, but we weren’t. Because this was Jules and I was Ethan and there wasn’t anything I didn’t know about her. Except how she tasted. Now I knew that.
She was delicious. I knew she would be. I knew she would feel perfect against me. How?
“Ethan, I’m serious. Game over. We’re drunk. We’re not thinking straight. This is a bad idea. This isn’t us, remember?”
I didn’t have the heart or the will to tell her I wasn’t that drunk. And the fact that she was still thinking about whether or not this was a good idea meant she wasn’t that drunk, either. Instead of explaining it, I ground my erection against her core.
“Take off your dress,” I whispered into her ear.
“Ethan…”
I cupped her face in my palm. “Jules, it’s okay. Tonight is for us. Only for us. Do you want me?”
“Ethan,” she whispered, her eyes closing. I kissed her, which was all the proof I needed of her desire. She moaned for me. She gasped for me. Of course she wanted me. I’d always known that, but there were rules when it came to Jules. Always there were rules.
Tonight, I was breaking them.
I stepped back and took off my suit coat, tugged and loosened my tie.
