Page 17 of Three Bossy Boyfriends
His gaze drops to my mouth. “Let’s make sure.”
He’s definitely going to kiss me.
I drift toward him, a magnetic pull between us.
But I misjudge the edge of the stool and fall off it, tumbling forward against his chest.
“Shit!” I yell out, even as Evan’s hands wrap around me and prevent me from actually falling.
“Okay, you’re cut off.”
A stern voice comes from behind the bar. As I right myself, using Evan’s firm chest as a push-off, I turn my head to see Harrison Reed, my brother’s best friend since practically birth, removing my half-empty fourth—fifth?—martini.
“I’m taking you home, Finley,” he says firmly. “Neither of you are driving tonight.”
“Of course we’re not driving,” I protest. “And you don’t get to tell me when it’s time to leave.”
But Evan sets me gently away from him and stands up. “We probably should head out. We have a nine o’clock meeting tomorrow.”
Harrison nods. “You heard the man. Get your shoes, Finley.”
How does he even know I’m not wearing shoes? God, older brother’s best friends and small towns in general are so annoying.
Fiona has already left for the night, or I would go home with her.
Instead, I’m stuck there, wobbling slightly, while Harrison shakes Evan’s hand as if they’re passing the baton of my care from one to the other.
“I can get myself home,” I insist. “I lived in New York for ten years.”
Harrison is already around the bar, and he’s collecting my purse and my phone. “It’s called looking out for each other,” he tells me. “It’s a good thing.”
Then he ruffles the top of my head and bops me on the nose with a smile like I’m ten.
Grumbling, I bend over to pick up my shoes. “I’m fine,” I mutter.
Though I’m starting to think I’m not fine.
I feel…vulnerable.
It’s being back here and seeing Tucker Hastings. It’s brought up all those yucky feelings about not fitting in, about my sisters being perfect and pretty and my parents’ perpetual sighing in worry over me.
About being called weird and creepy.
“I’m going to put a curse on you,” I tell Harrison.
He laughs. “Nice try.”
He’s trying to usher me toward the exit, but I bat his hands away. “Let me say goodnight to Evan. For fuck’s sake.”
Evan is sliding his arms into his jacket sleeves and picking up his phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the office.”
The near-kiss moment has passed. He gives me a smile and then starts swiping on his phone.
“What about our bill? I can send you half.”
“Don’t worry about it. My treat. I invited you.”
Evan leans over and kisses my cheek briefly. Then he murmurs in my ear, “Goodnight, Mary Jane.”
