Page 150 of All The Happily Ever Afters

“What?” The one word that spills out of my mouth sounds utterly pathetic and I don’t even care. “You are not leaving me,” I whisper in a hushed voice.

“I’m just going to the restroom. You get the first pick of the guys.”

“Cheryl!” I reach for her sleeve, but she’s already too far to pull her back.

The two guys don’t miss a beat sliding down farther, like they’re coming in for the kill.

“So, a pale ale?” the blond with the gorgeous smile questions and then motions for Dani. I don’t miss how high her brow arches and that sly, comical smile she gives me.

“Mm-hm.” I don’t trust myself to speak, but I settle on some small talk.

“Hi, guys. Having a good night so far?”

“Depends,” the blond one says. “Are you?”

My cheeks flare with heat. He’s not subtle in the least but I play it casually. “I always have fun on Sunday nights.”

The truth is, I’m always invested in being here on Sunday nights. Our crew has a good time together and it’s my wind down time. My safe place. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t here for Jackson too. My smile slips as I think of him yet again. I like being around him. I like having an excuse to look at him and listen to his jokes and just be in the same room. I’ve had to come to terms with making the most of it and enjoying my Sundays over the last three years. If it was truly painful to be here with him, that wouldn’t be any fun.

The barstool scrapes as the blond hunk takes the stool next to mine, the one that used to be Cheryl’s, and purses his lips. “You could have more fun, I bet.” His tone is soothing, but I see through it all.

“Oh yeah? And how’s that?” If I wasn’t thinking of Jackson, I’d ask him if he wanted to cut to the chase.

As it is, even when I’m looking at this man who’s obviously interested in me, all I see is the image of Jackson sitting here only hours ago.

My heart’s beating faster, but I don’t know if it’s because I’m genuinely interested in this guy or because I’m nervous as hell about what’s going to happen. If I click with some random man at the bar, what happens to my feelings about Jackson? Probably nothing. He doesn’t have any for me, so we’d both move on with our lives like grown adults. All the while this guy talks, my thoughts scream in my head. I nod and comment when it seems appropriate. His friend hovers, more invested in the game now.

But damn if I don’t want Jackson to be jealous. At least for him to notice that someone else has approached me. It sends a shiver down my spine to imagine his eyes on us, but I don’t look to see if he’s watching.

“What are you doing after this?” the blond hunk questions. My lips part but someone else speaks before I can.

“We’re going to my place.” Jackson’s deep, masculine voice breaks into our conversation and heats my core.

My heart pounds and I let out a long breath. It’s so damn hot in here. I hadn’t noticed that before. I pull at my sweater, hoping to feel a little breeze.

Before I can say anything, shock and heat overwhelming me, Jackson’s strong arm wraps around my lower waist. The thermostat must have fucking broken in this place.

Jackson’s body curls around mine as he bends down and kisses the crook of my neck. Right there in that spot beneath my ear and I think I must have died. It’s heaven, it’s sinful. It’s a fantasy come to life. “That’s what she’s doing after this.” His chest is a deep rumble against my shoulder and I can barely look back at the man who just bought me a drink.

I don’t even know how I’m sitting upright.

The brush of his lips fills me with butterflies. A fluttering mess of them. Gulping down the beer, I give myself a moment to steady. Jackson. Possessive of me in the bar just because a guy offered me a drink?

This might be my only shot to play along with him. I turn my face to his and kiss his cheek before I can overthink this. If he’s going to cross this line for a joke or whatever Jackson’s thinking … I’m going to cross it too.

My blond would-be hero throws his hands up with a smile when I glance back at him. “Didn’t realize.”

“Sorry, I should have said—” I’m not able to finish before Jackson cuts me off.

“No problem.” His tone is familiar, yet harder, more dominating. He leaves no room for further conversation. And the other guys get the hint.

They back off, looking toward the hall leading to the restroom, leaving me staring up at him, his arm still wrapped around me. His hold is looser now, but it’s still there.

“You drunk?” he questions, glancing down at me for only a moment.

Maybe more than a little tipsy. “Not so drunk that I don’t know what I want.” The words slip out before I can stop them and his brow raises in surprise.

I rip my gaze away and take another sip of beer, but it doesn’t do anything to change the way I feel right now.

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