Page 55 of Say You Remember Me
Ian’s hand was strong and warm, and though I’d tried so hard to be a strong, independent woman through the years, there was something comforting about holding his hand. Like maybe, even if it was just for tonight, I didn’t actually have to handle everything on my own.
The ballroom was filled with a warm, golden glow when we walked in. String lights were woven throughout the decorations. Little tables dotted the room, each one perfectly set up for a private conversation or a cozy gathering, and two bar stations offered a variety of drinks, including the evening’s signature drink—a watermelon margarita.
My mouth practically watered at the thought, partly because I loved watermelon margaritas and partly because a little social lubricant wouldn’t hurt to help me settle into this night.
"Shall we get our drinks?" Ian asked, nodding toward the line at one of the bars once we were inside.
“Sure,” I said, glad he was happy to make it our first stop.
As we queued up, Ian turned to me, his tone suddenly playful. “So, are you the type of fiancée who wants her man to order her drink for her? Or do you prefer to order for yourself?”
“Honestly?” I asked, scrunching up my nose. “I don’t think anyone has ever offered to order for me before.” Jaxon certainly never had. “But I guess I’ve sometimes thought it might be nice to have a guy take charge—in a respectful way, of course.”
“Of course.” Ian winked. “Respect is a must.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“I usually order my own drinks, too.” Ian tilted his head, amusement flashing in his eyes. “Oddly enough, my dates haven’t offered to order for me in the past, either.”
“Very funny.” I rolled my eyes, nudging him. “You know what I meant.”
“Oh, you mean if I like to order for my date?”
I nodded, curious despite myself.
“It depends on the woman, I suppose.” He shrugged. “If she likes it, I’ll go for it. If not, that’s fine, too.” Leaning in, he added, “But tonight, I’d be happy to do it for you.”
And I didn’t know why, but the way he said that, with his shoulder gently brushing against mine, sent a rush of warmth all throughout my body.
Yeah…I was pretty sure I wouldn’t mind having Ian Hastings take care of me for an evening, if for no other reason than to just have a night off from constantly being on watch for my own safety and security.
We made it to the bartender, and after placing his arm around my waist, Ian ordered two watermelon margaritas, sending a warm tingle through me.
The entire day we’d been keeping things low-key, almost businesslike. But now that the sun was slanting through the windows, the day transforming into night, he was leaning into his fake fiancé role, committing more fully to our little ruse.
With our drinks in hand, we strolled deeper into the ballroom, Ian guiding me by the hand around the tables and nodding at familiar faces until we stopped in front of a tall, dark-haired guy whose green eyes lit up at the sight of him.
“Drake Prewitt!” Ian said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Ian, my man, it’s been ages!” Drake said, pulling Ian in for a quick hug.
“It has been,” Ian said, patting his friend on the back. “Much too long.”
“And who is this?” Drake glanced over at me when they stepped apart, curiosity in his eyes.
“This is Maddie.” Ian set his hand on my waist again, pulling me close.
“Nice to meet you, Maddie.” Drake extended a hand, his expression warm.
“Likewise,” I replied with a smile, shaking his hand.
Ian’s gaze lingered on me, and I thought I caught a flicker of hesitation, as though he was considering whether or not to introduce me as his fiancée.
But seeming to decide against it, he instead explained to me, “Drake and I go way back. Met in high school and then continued on to Yale together.”
“Practically grew up together,” Drake said with a chuckle.
“That we did.” Ian’s brown eyes sparked, like he was remembering something from their past before he asked, “So, what brings you here? I don’t think I’ve seen you since college.”
