“Here, babe,” he interrupted, holding me tightly to him.
“We are. How are you, Josh?” Dean replied, extending his hand. Josh stiffened next to me but didn’t hesitate to shake it. “I’m good, Dean, thanks.”
“Joshua Stephenson!” Miranda exclaimed in a squeak. Josh studied her briefly before beaming a smile of recognition her way. “Miranda, how are you?”
They both looked incredulous, and I knew then that they had a history. I rolled my eyes, downing my martini, and saw Dean’s lips curl into a sly grin as he gauged my reaction.
“It’s been…my God, how long has it been?” she said, wrapping her claws around my boyfriend and planting a firm kiss on his lips. I took a step away as they studied each other and started to reminisce. I shook my head at the ceiling of the ballroom.
Son of a bitch!
The next twenty minutes were an exchange of ‘remember that time’…as Dean and I stood there, humoring their reunion by smiling and nodding. Josh held me closely, entertaining her and eyeing Dean and me at the same time. Apparently, they had been high school sweethearts, and it was almost impossible to stop my gag when she called him ‘Joshy’.
“You look beautiful,” Dean offered as I ripped away from Josh’s side to order another martini. I was going to pay like hell for this tomorrow. “Thanks, Dean,” I said dryly, doing whatever I could to discourage him.
“He hates me,” Dean observed, his breath hitting my ear with his admission. Josh’s watchful eyes darted over to us, and I damn near jumped out of my skin until Dean grabbed his drink from the bar next to me and pulled back. “He should hate me,” Dean said, amused as he took a long pull of his scotch.
I turned on him, my words full of spite. “And why is that, because you had your tongue in my mouth this morning?” I said casually so those around us wouldn’t catch on.
“No, because I want it in your mouth right now. Tell me, Dallas, did he kiss you as well on that dance floor as I did earlier?” My mouth dried quickly as I choked down a sip of vodka.
“Go to hell,” I said, furious.
“You’re drunk.” He chuckled as he studied me. I took a few swallows of my drink despite him.
“We aren’t kids anymore, Dean. Did it ever occur to you that I might just be kissing him for my own benefit?” I said, eyes wide and mocking, my mini-me putting up her boxing gloves in the corner of my mind. My vagina screamed at me that I wouldn’t feel a thing tonight or any night if I didn’t stop drinking.
“No,” he answered quickly, “you never really have played fair, have you?” His voice was filled with ice as I looked over to see Miranda inching closer to Josh.
“Your date is getting awfully cozy with my boyfriend, Dean,” I noted as he kept his focus on me.
“I didn’t come with her,” he admitted easily.
“Oh,” I said absently, the pressure in my head easing slightly. It was official. I was hitting the inevitable wall one hits when they have had an asinine amount of vodka. I was going down, and I was going fast.
“Well, just so you know,” I said, my head now resembling what I was sure was a bobblehead, “I hate that you’re home. I hate that you’re here,” I hissed as I pushed his chest with my finger. “You are the same arrogant, conceited, imposing bastard you’ve always been. And this whole thing you do with everyone around you, like you’re some gift…makes me sick,” I slurred as his eyebrows rose higher and higher with every word.
“Wow, tell me how you really feel,” he said, taking my martini out of my hand and setting it on the bar beside me.
“You’re not everything you think you are…You…hurt,” I said shakily. “You hurt the people who care about you.”
I watched his face fall as he took in my words. “What are you going to do when she falls for you, Dean? Huh?” I pointed to Miranda. “Let her down gently? Are you going to abandon her when she declares her love? Is that what you did to your fiancée?”
“Yep, you’re wasted,” he said, motioning for Josh.
“And I’m right,” I snapped, motioning for Josh myself. He came quickly.
“Go get the car. I’ll bring her to you,” Dean said as Josh approached.
“What’s going on?” he demanded as he looked my way. I shrugged my shoulders and had to take a step back and lean against the bar to keep from falling to my knees.
“Oh, shit, babe,” he looked at Dean for a second as if he was going to argue but then told him. “She won’t last much longer. Don’t let them see her like this. Give me four minutes.” Dean nodded as I turned to address him.
“Really, I’m fine—”
Dean grabbed my arm and started walking. I followed him, determined to make it to the hotel entrance. This was…bad.
“Fuck, Dally, I don’t think I’ve ever been so pissed off at you,” he hissed in my ear as we passed through the ballroom doors. “I’ll forgive you for what you said to me…eventually. But what the hell do you really know?”