Page 17 of Meant For Love

“What’s wrong?” he asks, and I just shake my head. “You went from happy to sad in the amount of time I left to say hello to a couple of people and come back.”

I think about lying to him and playing it off, but I’m annoyed and pissed. “Why can’t men who say they want to be in a committed relationship show they want a committed relationship instead of acting like he’s a single man?” I look at him.

“Did you not hear what I said before? I’m searching for that same thing.” He chuckles. “I’m also the last person you should ask that question to.” I take a deep inhale. “But I will say that if I perhaps had someone”—he smirks at me—“someone I’ve wanted for a really long time, there would be no question about how committed I would be.”

I listen to him say the words and feel the back of my neck burn before I laugh nervously, not sure what to say. “That would be one lucky girl.” The words are out of my mouth before I can even stop them. “We should do shots.”

He looks at me, his eyebrows going up. “This could be interesting.”

“We should take a shot every time someone says something about the girls you’ve dated. I’d be drunk for sure.” I laugh, my head feeling a little tipsy.

“What about you and the boyfriend?” he asks, and I reach for my wine. “Is the situation still the same?”

“Not my boyfriend,” I correct him before I take a sip of my wine, “per se. We are on a break.” I smile. “And not like a Rachel and Ross break, a real break.” I put my glass down. “Like you do your thing, let me do mine.”

He watches me, his eyes going dark. “We should take a shot every single time someone says equity.”

“Oh, good one.” I point at him. “Very, very good.” I clap my hands. “This is shaping up to be a really fun night.”

He tilts his head to the side, puts his hand on the back of my chair, and smirks. “The night’s just starting, Zoey.”

Seven

Nash

I watch her eyes move back and forth, her cheeks turning a little pink. “We should eat before we start taking shots,” she suggests. “Otherwise you might be carrying me home over your shoulder.”

I turn to her. “If that’s the case, I say finish that glass of wine so I can carry you home with me.” I lean in, hearing her breath hitch. “Except I only have the key to my room, so you’ll be sleeping in my bed.”

“I have the key in my purse.” She about stumbles the words out.

“It would be rude of me to go into your purse.” I move back to my seat as the chairs around us start to fill up. I look over at her in that fucking dress that had me hard the minute I fucking saw her in it. It hugs every single curve on her body, and being strapless, I have to wonder if she’s wearing a bra, which makes it really fucking uncomfortable in my pants.

“I think I would be able to crawl back to my room,” she states, and I raise my eyebrows.

“You on your hands and knees,” I tease, picking up my glass of water, “that’s something I’ve envisioned before.”

“Nash,” she says my name and laughs. “Rules.”

“Broke the minute you opened the door in that dress,” I mumble to her. She doesn’t have a chance to say anything to me as the woman beside her compliments her dress. They put the plate of steak down in front of me, and I’ve never wanted to finish a meal faster in my life. The meal goes quickly with the closing speeches, then everyone slowly gets up.

“Where to now?” she asks, looking at me as she grabs her purse.

“To the bar.” I motion with my head to the left. I put my hand on her back, laying claim to her. If anyone is looking her way, they will know she’s with me. When we get to one of the bars, a couple of men stand at the counter with a couple more coming up behind us. “What do you want to drink?”

“Tequila,” she says. “If we are taking shots and you aren’t backing down.”

“Trust me, Zoey, once I start in on something, I never, ever back down.” I wink at her as I give the bartender a chin up. “Two shots of tequila,” I order, then look around at a couple of people. “Anyone else?”

“We should,” one of the guys near me states. “After four days, we deserve it.”

“I agree,” Zoey adds, trying not to burst out laughing. “It was a good time.”

“Lots of equity talk,” one of the guys adds, and I look over at her as she holds up a finger.

We take a shot of tequila, and she chases it with a sip of water. “What do you want to drink?”

“I’ll have a vodka with a splash of soda water.”

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