Page 42 of Ink & Stardust

“If I remember right, you weren’t exactly sober either.” Maisie gives me a pointed look.

“Fair.” I laugh, following Charlotte and Maisie inside.

It’s not lost on me that this is the same house where I saw Kai for the very first time. I remember the way he defended me. The way he looked at me. And then, the way he propositioned me, like I was just going to leave the party with a man I’d never met ten minutes after arriving.

If I’m honest, had Maisie not shown up, I can’t say for certain that I would have said no. I know that sounds ludicrous, but Kai Elliot brings out a side of me I honestly didn’t even know existed until that night. A side of me that has been silently tucked away in the background but has now clawed and scratched her way to the surface, and she won’t be satiated until she gets exactly what she wants. Or ratherwhoshe wants. And he did all that in a single look. I can only imagine what he could do with his touch, especially when his kiss has already dismantled me into a million pieces.

“Draw a name.” A tall guy with broad shoulders currently shoved into an itty-bitty crop top that clearly doesn’t belong tohim shoves a hat in our direction the second we step over the threshold.

“What?” I look at Char as she reaches forward, taking a piece of paper from the hat.

“That’s how it works. Every guy who enters puts his name in the hat. Every girl who enters draws a name. Whichever guy you draw, you switch shirts with.” She hands the paper back to the hat guy without reading the name.

“Chris Johnston,” he bellows through a megaphone, the name traveling through the crowd like a seriously loud game of telephone. Moments later, a dark-skinned man with arm muscles bigger than my head appears in the foyer, his smile widening when he gets a good look at Charlotte.

“Switch,” hat guy instructs.

“Wait, what...” My eyes widen as I watch Char tug her halter top up over her head, revealing a black strapless bra underneath. Her chosen guy does the same, handing her his dark blue T-shirt while she hands him her top.

She quickly throws his on, the dang thing so long that if it had been me who had drawn his name, it would have come to my knees rather than just past my hips like it does on Char.

Watching Chris put on her halter top is much more entertaining. The small material gets stuck about halfway down his muscular chest and Charlotte has to step in and help him get it on.

He looks ridiculous.

And he’s definitely going to ruin her shirt. I can’t imagine there’s going to be any way it’s going to survive being stretched to its max like that.

“Shall we?” He offers her his arm moments later.

“Let’s.” She takes it, offering me and Maisie a little wave over her shoulder.

“Where is she going?” I ask Maisie, mildly horrified.

“It’s customary that once you switch shirts, you share a drink.”

“So you have to—”

“Relax, it’s just one drink and then you can reconvene with your friends,” hat guy interjects, clearly sensing my hesitation.

“You’ll be fine,” Maisie reassures. “Go ahead.” She gestures toward the hat.

I hesitate for more than just a few seconds before finally reaching my hand into the hat and slowly pulling out a piece of paper.

I hold my breath as I hand it over.

“Owen Grady,” hat guy shouts into the megaphone, the name carrying through the crowd as it had with Charlotte’s guy.

Owen Grady... It takes mewaylonger than it should to recognize the last name, his familiar face appearing through the crowd the instant it dawns on me.

“You pulled my name?” The dimple on his left cheek makes an appearance when he smiles, seeming genuinely excited that it’s me. And in truth, I’m pretty relieved myself.

Just because things didn’t exactly work out between us in a romantic way doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. And truthfully, I’d much rather have a drink with someone I kinda know instead of a complete stranger.

“I guess I did.”

I’d return his smile, but I’ve suddenly realized this means I have to remove my shirt in front of him, hat guy, and anyone else who may be looking. Nervous energy tingles up my spine.

“Switch,” hat guy instructs, and I briefly wonder how he got this job. Must suck being the guy who has to pair everyone up instead of getting to enjoy the party yourself.

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