Page 76 of The Plus Ones
“If you justknowme.”
“I am definitely not trying to fuck with you, Roxanne.” My hand reaches for her face, just as I feel Chase’s hand slap my back.
“Well-played, guys. Good game.”
Roxy and I laugh and take a step away from each other, and Chase’s hand slides up to the back of my neck, half strangling it.
“We can’t all be a perfect couple,” I say.
“I’m getting Aimee a drink—Rox, you want anything?”
“I’m good. Thanks, Dad.”
Chase pulls me aside, to the table with the refreshments and snacks. “You slept with her, didn’t you?”
“You must have me confused with someone who is not a gentleman.”
“Not cool, dude.”
“Ever occur to you that I might be the one who’s in trouble here?”
Chase smiles as he pops a banana chip into his mouth and pats me on the back, reassuringly this time. “Ever occur to you that that’s what I was worried about all along?”
“Should we grab a drink at the bar?” Roxy nudges my shoulder as we reach the conjunction of paths to the cottages and the bar.
I nod toward our friends. “I think they’re all going back to their cottages.”
“That’s okay. I meant just us.”
Just us.
Those two little words are as delicate and meaningful as a soft kiss on the cheek from this woman.
“Yeah. Let’s grab a drink.”
“First Old Fashioned is on me.” She takes my hand, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see her examining the profile of my face as we veer off the path toward the bar. “Tell me about yourself, Keaton Bridges,” she says.
Chase and Aimee may have won Game Night, but I am winning Roxy Carter’s heart.
18
Roxy
Have you always been this handsome?I am thinking as I suck more of this inspired rum cocktail into my mouth through two little green straws while leaning across the little table toward him.
“What’s your favorite color?” is what I ask him.
“Ice blue,” he says, staring into my eyes.
“Uh-huh. And is it brown when you’re staring into the eyes of a brown-eyed girl?”
“My favorite color is now ice blue,” he states, very convincingly, as he takes a sip of his Old Fashioned.
Apparently every other couple at this resort has already retired to their cottage, because Keaton and I are the only ones at the bar, so we have the deck to ourselves, we have the friendly bartender to ourselves, we have the twinkling hurricane candleholders to ourselves, we have the sound of the waves below and the dreamy steel drum music from the hidden speakers to ourselves, and we have thissamarall to ourselves.
I may not have been able to answer every question about Keaton Bridges in a room full of people, but I can ask him every question and I can give him this. This night. My time. My full attention. And my sudden inability to let go of his big, beautiful hand. God, it’s so dumb. A warm breeze carries his clean, masculine scent in my direction, and I inhale shamelessly.
Why do I feel the urge to slather myself in cocoa butter and walk around naked in front of you until you drop to your knees?
