Page 65 of The Boy I Hate

Everyone began cheering and hollering and moving around thefloor.

“The clock is ticking, ladies and gentleman. You have one hour to get to know each other.Havefun.”

Samantha glanced around all the people, hating her best friend as one of the DJ’s assistants tapped her on the shoulder. The woman handed her a pen and paper, entered her information into a tablet, then smiled and nodded thanks before leaving to pass on to others. “Goodluck.”

Samantha clutched the paper in her hand, scanning the room, hoping to spot Tristan, but found Mark standing right behind herinstead.

He grinned and narrowed his eyes. “We have to stop meeting like this.” He teased. He then took his pen and paper, stepped around the table and placed it upon her back. “MayI?”

She nodded, feeling a bit wobbly after only two sips of her Martini. “Goahead.”

“Samantha. Is that with two M’s orjustone?”

She laughed. “Justone.”

“Lastname?”

“Smiles.”

“And how do you know thebride?”

She located Tristan just across the dance floor and cleared her throat. “We grew up together,” she said, suddenly feeling winded, because he was talking to a tall blond, who had her paper flat against hischest.

“Can you be more specific please?” Markgrinned.

“Hartford Grove Elementary, playground, secondgrade.”

His pen hit her back again, then he turned around and offered her his own. “Yourturn.”

She cleared her throat, trying to concentrate, but Tristan was laughing at something the blond was saying, and thatirritatedher.

“Last name?” SheaskedMark.

“Wahlberg.”

“And how do you know the bride and groom,” she said, completelydistracted.

“We all met on the set of BoogieNights.”

But before she could finish writing, Mark slipped out from under her paper and stood in front of her. “Okay, so who is he? Or she…? I’m open-mindedlikethat.”

Samantha blinked a few times, unsure what he was talking about. “Excuseme?”

He raised one eyebrow. “I’m not Mark Wahlberg. But I’m flattered youbelievedme.”

Her eyes widened and she looked down to her paper. “Sorry,I—”

But he took the pen from her hand and began filling out his information. “Look, I told Renee it was too soon.” He scribbled some words on the paper, handed it back to her, then draped his arm over her shoulder to turn her toward the dance floor. “Is he here? The guy who’s captured yourheart?”

She shook her head, feeling heat creep up her cheeks. “No. And I don’t know what you’re talkingabout.”

He smiled, then patted her on the backside. “Must be my imagination.” Soon he was lost in the crowd, gathering more names, and she began making her way back toward the bar. If she was going to get through this night, she was going to need morealcohol.

She introduced herself to as many people as she could along the way, collecting information until she saw Tristan heading for the baraswell.

She made a beeline, arrived first, and swiftly turned to order another drink. A hand settled low on her back a second later, and she pulled in a shaky breath, knowing it was Tristan. She turned around, finding him standing right behind her. He was clean shaven, smelled like heaven, and her heart picked up speed simply from being close to himagain.

“You better leave,” she whispered, “or someone’s going to getsuspicious.”

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