By the time dinner was over, I’d progressed from buzzed to giggly, affectionate drunk. I went through the same stages every time I drank since freshman year of college.
That light, warm, fuzzy buzz. Then the giggles where everything was just too funny, and I loved everyone. A few drinks later, and I’d get dreamy or emotional or philosophical, depending on the mood. Occasionally in college, I’d progressed to a fourth stage where people could dare me to do almost anything. But thankfully, that rarely happened these days.
Usually, I’d just pass out after stage three. Then wake up and chug a gallon of water with some ibuprofen. The headaches were getting less and less worth it at thirty years old.
But it was Chloe’s bachelorette weekend.
Flynn’s warm grip on my knee then his fingers brushing over the base of my spine through the open back of my chair did nothing to help my giggling. Or my desire to rip all his clothes off and lick his abs.
Okay, so maybe I was feeling a little more than affection. But he brought it out in me.
He’d come back to the table looking like Chloe had clubbed him over the head with her purse. Or her day planner. But after a few minutes, he’d gone back to being his flirty, funny self.
“We’re all paid up,” Chloe announced, her cheeks pinker than her drink. “Let’s go!”
Everyone stood up, and the couples of the group said their mushy goodbyes to each other, despite knowing they’d be sharing a room tonight.
Owen and Louis waved and headed out first. Wyatt and Gina said a stiff goodnight before Wyatt followed the brothers.
Seeing as how Chloe was busy with Hunter, I turned to Flynn.
“Goodnight,” I whispered.
His eyes smoldered with things my brain couldn’t understand, but my body certainly did. No alcohol could burn through the center of my being like that. Every nerve on fire. Every muscle warm and ready.
No, that was all Flynn.
He bent down to whisper in my ear. “Don’t wish me things I can’t have. Not tonight.”
My breath caught in my throat. What did that mean? Was he worried about having fun with the guys?
He must’ve caught my confused look because he smiled, softening the intensity lining his face. “Text me.” Then he spun on his heel and left.
I blinked. I was not in the right state to process what had just happened. Maybe Gina could help.
But when I glanced at her, she shrugged. Of all us girls, she could hold down her liquor best, but she had her tells. “Forget the men, babe. Let’s go.”
Laughing, I linked arms with her, and we walked out with the two couples on our heels. After we peeled Chloe and Hunter apart with Sarah and Carter’s help, we sprawled over the beds and couch in the suite Gina and I were sharing. The guys were in Owen and Louis’s.
We kicked off our shoes, and Sarah immediately began digging around in the bags we’d brought.
“Where are the Froot Loops?” she muttered.
While Gina fumbled with the in-room Blu-ray player, Chloe opened a cooler and passed around flavored hard seltzers. I popped open a watermelon one and leaned back on the pile of pillows against the headboard.
Chloe and Sarah lay on the other bed with their seltzers and Sarah’s Froot Loops. Gina collapsed next to me and hit play.
“Oh, before I forget,” she said in a stage whisper, “remind me to thank Flynn for doing such a great art class with Dom. He loved it. Asked me to put an orange thumbprint on his tree of courage. And the orange was symbolic or something?” She flapped her hand. “Anyway, he thought Flynn was the coolest.”
I smiled. “He is. It was amazing to watch the kids light up in his class.”
Chloe leaned over. “Are you talking about my brother?”
“Yeah. His art classes,” I clarified.
She sighed. “They weren’t the only ones lighting up about it. I thought I was the long-winded one in the family, but Flynn went on and on about his classes.” She chuckled and shook her head. “It was adorable.”
My heart warmed. Did Flynn know that?