Page 36 of Stuck With the Billionaire Grump

I don’t care. Really.

“No, thank you,” I tell Eric firmly.

Unbothered, he simply shrugs his shoulders and settles back in the lawn chair to take a puff of his fancy imported cigar.

I take a sip of whiskey and subtly check my watch. It’s half past eight. The sun has only barely just set. I haven’t been here for that long. I probably can’t reasonably duck out of here for another hour or so.

But it’s not about me, anyway. Tomorrow is Elijah’s big day. I may have been present at his first wedding, but I’ve never seen him this excited and jittery and…joyful. The man is practically glowing. And after the hard times that he’s been through, I truly am happy for him. If anyone deserves to live happily ever after with their soulmate, it has to be Elijah. He’s a good guy, through and through.

Therefore, I can stop whining about my own aversion to socializing for one night and take this last opportunity to celebrate my friend’s happiness.

Elijah is still looking at the unlit cigar, probably wondering how he can politely avoid smoking it. I don’t know the specifics of his friendship with Eric, but I think I did hear Harry mention that he’s some kind of long-lost cousin that Elijah hasn’t seen in years. Or something like that. Elijah obviously doesn’t want to offend him.

I catch Harry’s eye and, somehow, from one single look, I can tell that he’s also picking up on Elijah’s hesitation around Eric. His personal assistant instincts still haven’t died, even though it’s been over a year since Elijah’s lived and worked in San Francisco as his boss.

“Here, man, I’ll toss you my lighter,” Eric says when he notices Elijah’s predicament.

The bright blue lighter goes flying through the dark evening sky, soaring over the fire pit, but Elijah is a computer engineer, not an athlete. I hold back a chuckle as he stares at theapproaching object for a moment too long, and then is too slow to raise his hand and catch it.

With a softthump,it lands in the dewy grass at his feet.

“Sorry about that, man,” Eric says.

“S’my fault,” Elijah replies.

He bends down to grab it, but then something else small and colorful comes sailing out of the shadows. Beside me, Akim sits up straight with surprise at the sight of the strange, balloon-ish object.

It smacks right into the top of Elijah’s head as he’s bent forward. I feel a few droplets of water land on my forearm, note the weird splashing sound as something wet spills into the grass at Elijah’s feet, and gape in silence for several seconds before realizing what just happened.

“Is that a…?” I trail off as Elijah sits upright.

He’s holding a neon green scrap of rubbery material in his hand.

“Water balloon,” he murmurs. Then, with a jolt, he twists around and stares into the copse of trees that borders the edge of the yard and forms a tiny forest between his house and that of a few neighbors.

“What—”

“Oh, no,” Elijah breathes.

Harry stands up to get a better look at Elijah from the other side of the fire pit. “Dude, what was—”

The rest of Harry’s question is broken off by another wetsmackas a second water balloon collides with Elijah—this time, against his shoulder. A ribbon of highlighter-yellow rubber catches the firelight as it flutters quite gracefully into the dark grass.

A feminine cackle cuts through the stunned silence.

Elijah lets out a long-suffering sigh and mutters, “I should’ve known.”

I have no idea what that means, nor do I have time to ask, because then the sky is suddenly raining water balloons. Dozens of them all at once, pelting us from the shadows of the nearby woods. Each of them as small as my fist and as bright as candy.

Girlish war cries echo from the woods, spiraling up to the starlit sky.

We leap to our feet as they rush out of the darkness. For a moment, I’m struck by the sheer ridiculousness of the sight of them. They’re pretty yet terrifying mythical creatures clad in matching outfits, each wielding bags full of water balloons dangling from their shoulders.

A redhead that I vaguely recognize in the dim light, dressed in orange satin, comes barreling toward me and Akim. I’m still trying to processwhatexactly is happening, so all I can do is stand there like an idiot and stare. Akim yelps and scrambles backwards, instantly turning himself into much more interesting prey. The redhead launches a purple balloon at him, which smacks right into the center of his chest. She lets out a raucous shout of victory and chases after him when he turns and runs.

The backyard is swarmed with women in silk pajamas, all of them laughing and yelling with mischievous delight. Water balloons crash and pop all around, soaking the grass and turning escape into a slippery, nearly impossible endeavor. To my left, Harry dives at the last minute to avoid an assault orchestrated by giggling blonde twins, but he isn’t fast enough to prevent a deluge from the redhead, who has been swift and merciless in her defeat of Akim.

In seconds, Harry is soaked to the bone.

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