Page 272 of Not Over You

I whip around so fast on my heels, just like I would any other time pre-Switzerland. But post-Switzerland, a thousand knives slice through my spine. So quick. So intense. It’s like smashing into the floor of snow and ice all over again. It rips the air from my lungs, the light from my eyes, and the strength from my knees.

A firm hand catches one wrist. A slightly stronger hand grabs the other. Both my brother and my bestie hold me steady and shield me from my audience while I recover.

“Damn heels,” I curse, blinking to refocus my eyes.

“Careful.” Tristan locks his gaze on mind.

Please, don’t draw attention to it. Please. Just let me have one normal night.

“It may have been a box office hit but that doesn't mean it’s not porn.” He grumbles again, wrapping a supportive arm around my waist. “There was a lot of sex. A lot of you being sexy and doing what you’re threatening to do tonight. I was very uncomfortable in that theater.”

“That wasn’t my fault.”

“Well, yeah actually, it was,” Tristan mutters, “I haven’t reacted to you like that since my divining rod turned in favor of my sex not yours.”

Huh—oh, oh! He got aroused. Ew! No, not Tristan! Gross. That’s like my brother getting a boner from me!

“I suppose, technically, it might not have been you. Your co-star was a work of art, and the director a genius. But he was still having sex with you.”

“He was not having sex with me. I was acting and so was he. I don’t do that in front of anyone… and before you come up with some quick one-liner, you’re not doing it in front of them, you’re doing it with them… have you really watched the film just once? But you and Drew love my movies. You watch them all the time!”

“Have you never heard of Pavlovian conditioning? Positive reinforcement theory? Cognitive Behavioral Therapy.” He puts his hands on my shoulders. “Babe. You are beautiful. Stunning. A work of art. And this right here, I love. But your pussy, or any other pussy for that matter, does not belong anywhere near my cock—and it’s certainly not what stimulates it. That’s my husband’s job.”

“I would have loved to be a fly on the wall when you explained that to Drew!” I tease.

“I should be grateful he isn't worried my female best friend can turn me on. But he finds the fact I'm so freaked out by it too hilarious to care. I was fucking traumatized by that movie!”

“So, you’re not up for the sequel?” I joke, but from the three death stares and multiple other hot glares pinned on me, I should have kept my mouth shut. “I was joking!”

“So,” Unlucky Lee grumbles, “we all miss out because you spent your teenage years making out with Ashleigh, and you still get a boner from some Russian dog whisperer? I don’t think so. Babe, you can swing on my pole any time.”

“Down boy, or I’ll put you down!” Ryder growls as he does that big brother bodyguard thing of puffing out his chest and flexing his muscles. “It’s on DVD. Swing on your own pole.”

I turn around in Tristan’s arms much more delicately than the first over eager swivel. My gaze meets with Lee’s. He’s playing with Ryder because my brother has a huge stick up his ass. But Lee doesn’t know the reason Ryder is in Las Vegas. He’s responsible for my care until my full-time doctor and physiotherapist returns from a weekend with her family.

“Maybe I could get a private showing?”

“Don’t you even think—”

“You’re a gatecrasher Ryder!” I step out of Tristan’s support and between the two boys. I know what will get Ryder to relax, even if it’s just a little. I almost feel guilty for what I’m about to do. He might be my big brother, but a lot of these guys have known me for much longer than the eight years Ryder’s father has been married to my mom. “You don’t get to impose sanctions at this boys’ night.”

“What?” Ryder frowns. “What are you talking about? You’re not even a boy. Why are you here?”

The thirty or so men crowd around me like bees protecting their Queen. I watch as Ryder takes in the defensive crowd. His left brow lifts. His hand comes up in surrender, and he backs away.

He sits back on his stool. “Touché, lil’ sis.”

“Right, then.” I rub my hands together and walk toward the line of shots. “Who's up for a good night?”

CHAPTER 4

ASHLEIGH

Four hours, two bars, a casino, six beers, and four shot races later the boys are enjoying their exclusivity in the VIP lounge inside one of the hottest nightclubs in Las Vegas. They’re very merry. I, on the other hand, am not... by choice.

Around the same time as the first glass touched my lips, the imaginary little cricket whose voice is remarkably like my live-in doctor and physiotherapist, Soraya, jumped on my shoulder. She reminded me of all those reasons why she and Ryder had talked me out of the boys’ night in Las Vegas on the long flight back from Switzerland.

I was in LA for just one night. A fly-in visit to see my mom and stepfather before the wedding. I wasn’t even supposed to do the show. My twin, Mimi, was. As Krystal. Because she retired her alter ego years ago and had largely remained out of the spotlight.

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