Page 26 of Fun Together
I look over to see Eli standing next to me with an amused grin on his face.
The couple realizes I won’t be joining in, so they get back to making out. I turn to Eli and I mean to give him a side hug, but it’s so crowded and I’m so wobbly that it ends up being what can best be described as a drunken pat down of his abdominal region. “Hey, you came!”
He nods to the interlocked couple. “You having a good time?”
“I think I was in the early stages of joining a threesome.”
He laughs. “Sorry to interrupt. Should I make myself scarce, then?”
“No, not sure I’m ready for that stage in my fun journey.” I gaze wistfully back at them. “Although I really wanted to know her haircare routine.”
I look around, wondering where Rett is. She’s probably worried I’ve made my escape. I spot her talking to the two guys she pointed out, and she makes eye contact with me. I give her a questioning look and we do a pantomime to each other in which I tell her I’m coming over there and she shakes her head and points to Eli.
That’s right, she doesn’t know who Eli is, thinking he’s some random guy I’ve met in line for the bathroom. This gives me an idea. The sooner I complete this mission, the sooner I can go home. And if he’s anything like he used to be, he’ll be game for the shenanigans and will probably think my idea is funny.
I turn to him. “I could use a favor.”
He looks down at the hand I didn’t even notice I’d placed on his forearm. “Sure, what’s up?”
His skin is warm and taut, covered in hair that I can feel beneath my fingertips. I’m suddenly on the verge of throwing up, not from alcohol, but from a rush of nerves. What am I thinking? I was just having a crisis about the very fact that I can’t do those kinds of things with him. I remove my hand finger by finger. “Actually, never mind.”
“What is it? How can I help?”
His eyes are so kind, full of concern and a hint of curiosity.
It makes what I’m about to say all the sillier. I take a deep breath, and my words come out in a rush. “I need you to pretend to flirt with me so I can pretend to flirt with you so I can go home to my nest.”
I don’t mention the kissing part, hoping Rett will be satisfied with just the flirting.
He arches a brow. “Okay . . .”
I look over to where Rett is standing, and she gives me an encouraging nod. “See that redhead over there?” I point to Rett’s direction and then move so that we’re turned away from her. “She told me I can’t go home until I . . . ki—flirt with someone. And I’m tired and don’t feel like having to talk to someone new.”
He has an intrigued expression. “Alright. What specifically did you have in mind?”
“Just . . .” I look around. “Oh! I know.” I sway a little and catch my balance on the wall. I gesture to an empty pool table. “You can show me how to play pool. In a . . . flirty manner.”
He reaches a hand out, cupping my elbow to steady me. “A flirty manner?”
“Yeah, like in the movies where you stand behind me and teach me how to line up a shot. And say things like . . . ‘Wow, Heaven must be missing an angel tonight,’ or whatever.”
He brings his head down to my left ear so I can hear him better. “Is that how you like to be flirted with?”
The deep rasp of his voice sends sparks straight to my belly button, obliterating all feelings of drunkenness and replacing them with other feelings. Like, I haven’t had sex or even kissed someone in—I’m too drunk to do the actual math—way too long, feelings.
I brush the thought away. Flirting is one thing, but to kiss him would be crossing some kind of line I don’t have the brainpower to think about right now. It’s just the tequila talking.
I already forgot what he asked me. Oh yeah, do I like to be flirted with like that? “Um, I think so?”
“If memory serves, you already know how to play pool. I remember you kicking my ass once or twice.”
Thanks to my pool shark of a grandpa, I’ve been playing since I was tall enough to see over the table. I’m surprised he remembers us playing. “That’s all part of the pretending, I guess.”
“Then let the pretending begin.” His thumb grazes the inside of my shoulder blade for the few seconds it takes to guide us over to the table.
He hands me a stick before racking the balls. “You want to break?”
“No, you go ahead.”
