But after another minute or two with no luck, he charged his way over to the bar and pushed past a throng of people vying to get drinks. When he finally made his way to a place where he could talk to a waitress, the woman next to him leaned into him, rubbing against his side suggestively.
He glanced at her. She was about his age, shorter than Bri, with white-blonde hair. She had on too much makeup and a jangly necklace that highlighted her pushed-up and on display cleavage. She looked like she was about to spill out of whatever piece of structural hocus pocus she had on, and he had a strong feeling that once out, they wouldn’t look anywhere near as impressive.
“Hey, fella. I’ll buy you a drink,” she said, with a lascivious look. She ran a tiny pink tongue across her lips as if inviting him to taste.
“No, thanks,” he said grimly. He needed to find Bri before she did something she might regret for the rest of her life.
“Your loss,” the girl muttered angrily, clearly offended. He didn’t have time to give a shit.
He finally got the attention of the harried waitress behind the counter, trying to load drinks on a tray. “Excuse me, I’m looking for a girl,” he said, talking loudly over the music and the other patrons.
“Yeah? You and half the bar. There’s one right there,” she said, pointing at the woman next to him, who was now sucking on her finger suggestively.
“No, dammit!” he said, frustrated. He saw how this was going to go. He slipped a twenty from his wallet across the bar. “She’s petite, dark hair. She’s drunk, been drinking vodka tonics all night.”
“Oh,” the waitress said, still distracted. She was trying to balance a tray load of drinks. “Maybe I saw her.”
“Here,” Gabe said, tossing a fifty on top of the drinks on the tray. “Think harder.” The money got her attention, and she looked at Gabe as she put the tray down. “Yeah, I saw her. She was over there, with some guy.” She nodded to a table that was now occupied by a group of bachelorette partygoers. “She’s over there now, in the corner.” She waved toward a table tucked away in a corner opposite the bar. He squinted to see across the club, and then finally made out Brianne, slumped uncharacteristically and inelegantly in a chair.
She seemed to have no clue how dangerous the world could be, how dangerous men could be around someone like her. Even so, he felt his body begin to relax as he gazed at her. She was there. She hadn’t gone home with anyone. His relief was almost tangible.
He thanked the waitress and started toward her. It took him a minute but then he realized she was sorting the bowl of party mix on the table into neat little piles. In spite of himself, he chuckled because it was so very Bri. He crossed the crowded floor quickly, as if there was nobody in his way. Pulling out a chair, he sat down uninvited. “You’ve got a peanut in your pretzels,” he said with a grin, but she didn’t look up.
“I’m sorry you had to come out,” she said, and finally looked at him. She looked so miserable and so drunk, his heart broke a little.
“No worries, not the first time I’ve had to rescue a friend who had a few too many,” he said, grabbing a peanut from the bowl and popping it into his mouth. “What’s up?”
She shook her head, remaining quiet. Then she started to talk, the words falling out in a waterfall. “Evie wanted me to come out, thought it would do me good. She’s been nagging me to stop dwelling on everything, so I did. And she thought I should just hook up with someone. You know, a meaningless one-night stand. So I thought, sure, why not, I can do that.”
Gabe’s jaw tightened. This was not what he wanted to hear.
“But you know what?” she continued. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t even do something as simple and normal as that. I couldn’t even commit to a one-night stand. I can’t make anything work, or anything last.”
“Bri,” Gabe said with a sigh, and ran his hand through his dark hair. “You’re being too hard on yourself. You’re as capable as anyone of having meaningless sex, but that doesn’t mean you should do it.”
“No, I’m not, and why shouldn’t I?” she protested then fell quiet, pushing the pretzel sticks around on the table.
Gabe found himself stuck for words. He wanted to tell her that she was too good, too precious to do something so tawdry and cheap, but she was right. Why shouldn’t she do what everybody else did? Why shouldn’t she explore her options? He sure as hell had over the years.
“Will you be my one-night-stand?” she asked suddenly, her voice small.
His heart almost stopped. He had to strain to hear her over the crowd and the music. And even then, he wasn’t sure if he’d heard her right.
“What the fuck? What the hell do you mean, asking something like that?” he demanded, his voice sounding angry to cover the shock he felt. She was offering him the one thing he had dreamed about for years. And she clearly had no clue how much he wanted to say yes.
“You know, help me out. Show me that I can at least get through a one-night relationship,” she said.
Gabe gazed at her—perfectly formed shoulders bared by her skimpy top, red lips, and dark hair he’d always wanted to twine his hands in. He felt a tightening in his belly as the blood rushed to his groin, and he tried to stamp down the surge of desire pulsing through him. He prayed that she wouldn’t notice how much tighter his jeans suddenly felt.
She doesn’t know what she’s asking, he thought, looking away from her because he was petrified that his overwhelming desire to say yes was written all over his face. He took a couple of deep breaths and tried to dispel images of her naked beneath him. She needed a friend, not a meaningless fuck.
“What would that prove, Bri? That you’re just as shallow and commitment-phobic as everyone else? What’s the point?”
“It would prove to me that I could do it. That for just one night I could at least successfully follow through on a one-night stand, and not fuck everything up,” she said. Her eyes were pleading with him.
It took every ounce of self-restraint he had to not pick her up and rush her straight back to his apartment and do exactly as she asked.
Gabe’s jaw tightened. He’d wanted her for so long, but he’d been pretty successful in putting it out of his head. He and Eric were as tight as brothers, after all. But here she was, unattached at last, and practically throwing herself at him.