Page 24 of Broken Hearts
“Not exactly.” I twist my hands in front of me. “He doesn’t know I’m coming.”
She laughs, fills us each a cup of beer, and then starts back toward the middle of the yard. I was perfectly content hanging on the side and out of the chaos.
I continually scan the party, but I don’t see Rhett anywhere. I was so sure he’d be here. I didn’t even consider the possibility that he made other plans.
“We’re dancing,” Josie announces and pulls me again, sloshing half of my beer on the ground.
“We are?” I ask, the question gets lost in the noise as we step closer to the source of the booming music. She drags me behind her and I squeeze her hand to work out some of my nerves.
She stops a few yards away from the people dancing. “What’s up with you? You’re acting like you’re nervous, and you have no reason to be. Is it the dress? Are you uncomfortable? Because you look amazing.”
“No. It isn’t the dress. Looove the dress,” I assure her, smoothing a hand down the skintight pink dress from her closet that she insisted I wear tonight. “It’s Rhett. I think I like him.” Damn him. “I don’t even really know him, but I can’t stop thinking about him. I’m all out of sorts.”
“I hate it when that happens.” She smiles at me. “Forget about Rhett for an hour. Let’s just have a good time and then we’ll ask around and see if he’s here.”
As she speaks, I spot him. I grab her arm, so she doesn’t step any closer. There he is. The guy I stupidly can’t stop thinking about. He’s on the dance floor sandwiched between two girls. One plastered on his front with her hands on his chest and another at his back rubbing her boobs all over him.
A surge of annoyance and frustration blasts through me. Followed quickly with jealousy. The latter pisses me off the most. Of course, he came anyway and is dancing with other girls. I said no. Which is why the jealousy I feel is particularly annoying.
Josie follows my gawking stare. “Guess he came.”
“Yeah. Found him. Now can we go?”
“Sienna!” Maverick’s voice manages to boom over the music. I glance back to the dance floor to see him in a similar position as his teammate.
I wave, and he untangles himself from two girls, who move on to someone else in his absence. Mav moves toward Rhett, who speaking of, still hasn’t noticed me, but the two girls he’s dancing with are inching up his shirt, and four hands move over his back, stomach, and pecs. The one in front squats down and licks his abs. That’s as much as I see before I turn and walk away.
Josie jogs beside me to keep up. “Where are you going?”
“This was a mistake.”
Maverick, half naked, tattoos rippling under his muscles, catches us. “Hey, no way, you came! Rhett’s going to be so stoked.”
“Right. He looks pretty stoked.” I wave a hand of indifference toward him. He’s finally spotted me and is attempting to squeeze out from between his dance partners. They are not letting him go without a fight. I can hardly blame them.
He looks sinful in a plain white T-shirt and jeans, staring at me with apologetic eyes. The thing is, I’m not even pissed at him. I’m pissed at myself for assuming he was going to be hanging off to the side, waiting and hoping that I’d come. I told him no because this is who he is, and I didn’t want to get my feelings hurt, but then convinced myself otherwise because that’s what I wanted to believe.
“Ah, don’t be mad at him. I had to practically drag him out there. Let’s go save him.” Mav wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me back toward the dance floor. Rhett’s managed to get free and heads toward us.
“Hey,” he says tentatively. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“Surprise!” Sarcasm drips from the word.
Josie and Maverick look between us. An awkward silence falls over our small group.
“Dance?” Maverick asks my friend, holding his hand out to her.
“Absolutely.” Josie slides her palm into his. She looks over her shoulder as they move into the center of the dancers.
Rhett shifts nervously in front of me. “You look nice. I’ve been wondering if your hair was short or long. I can never tell when it’s all up.”
“You have?”
“I like it.” He lifts a hand and brushes his fingers along the ends of my hair. He sways and inadvertently pulls my hair as he does. “Oh shit, sorry.”
He untangles his fingers with a sheepish grin.
Rhett is drunk and for some reason I find it a little charming.
