Page 38 of Average Joe

Strong arms yanked me right back. “Why?”

“Because I’m unavailable.” Because I wanted those hands, those arms, those lips to belong to Joe, the man I was trying so hard not to like or need or crave.

He pulled me flush against the length of him, ensuring I felt every hard bump and powerful plane. “Good answer.” A sharp sting bit my backside, and the stranger rasped in my ear, “Good goddamn answer, neighbor.”

My fevered body cooled to frigid. I whipped around, but the man was gone, swallowed whole by the throbbing mob.

* * *

Knees weak, heart rate turbulent from the erotic dance floor encounter, I stumbled back to our group, fell into my seat, and slapped the table. “What’d he look like?”

“Who?” Singleton asked, his thick, flaxen hair rumpled, his shirt askew.

I dipped a napkin into a glass of melting ice, then used the wet cloth to rub cherry red lipstick off his chin. “The guy who brought our drinks.”

“Dunno.” Singleton shrugged. “Big guy. Dressed nice.”

“That’s it?”

“Wasn’t paying much attention. Figured he was management.” His thick lips spread into a quirky grin. “He did ask if you and I were together.”

“What?”

“Yep.” He closed his eyes while I finger-combed his unruly hair back into place. “He knew your name.”

“Dammit, Singleton, you could have led with that piece of evidence.”

He turned his body toward mine, our faces close enough I could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Evidence?”

“Yes. What did you tell him?”

“Told the truth.” He leaned closer, then grumbled as if painful to admit, “You are off limits. I’m partial to my balls, so I keep my hands to myself.”

“Partial to your…? Keep your… what?”

“Marley.” Singleton laughed, then eased back. “Seriously. You don’t know?”

“Obviously not.”

“Here.” He passed a shot glass my way. “I’ve had a thing for you since Marco introduced us years ago. All the guys do. But you’re Lilly’s girl, and she’s Marco’s girl.” His brows lifted while he waited for me to catch on.

I didn’t, so he continued. “Marco threatened our manhood if we were anything other than brotherly toward you. And believe me, Marco is a man of his word and one man I know better than to tangle with.”

I threw the shot back, not tasting a thing but going straight for the kill, as in killing all the feelings, then reached for another. I’d always believed that Dylan was the reason none of Marco’s friends had made a move. Would I have dated them? Maybe. But, damn, I’d pegged all of them wrong by assuming white-collar workers wanted to avoid getting involved with the likes of me.

“You should slow down, Masters.” Marco’s warning came over my shoulder. “Want you to enjoy the celebration, not end up in the ER with alcohol poisoning.” He scooted next to me, bumping hips.

“Ah, Marco, you’re just jealous because I can drink you under the table.” I spoke the truth. Thanks, Dad, for those genes. “Where’s Lilly?”

“Ladies’ room.”

“Good idea. Scooch over.” I made my way out of the booth and toward the VIP Ladies’ Lounge, swaying on my heels. The railing attached to the wall in the hallway was a freaking lifesaver. I’d have to mention that often overlooked but brilliant detail on my Yelp review.

I threw the door open. “Lilly, where are you?”

“I’m here,” she said from behind a hand-carved door.

“This lounge is roomier than my house.” Lordy, I was enjoying my buzz.

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