Maia takes her first sip, and goes, “Whoa! There is… so much liquor in this!”
Gunnar grins and winks at her. “I’ll take that as a good sign. Let me top us both off.”
Maia rolls her eyes. He drains his red solo cup, and reaches for the jug to refill his drink. Someone busts out a soccer ball, and most of the party moves onto the beach.
I hang back, along with Asher and Emma. Asher is puttering around with the grill, putting on one of the leather aprons we wear at the bar. I refuse to let myself fall into the trap of staring at Emma, so I just sit under an umbrella and sip my punch quietly.
I glance at Asher a few times, but he seems to be deliberately keeping his back turned to me. His little game of finger-pointing has really gone on for way too long at this point, but I’ll be damned if I am going to beg for him to listen to me.
“Do me a favor?” Asher asks Emma. “Open the food cooler and pass me that Tupperware full of chicken, will you?”
Emma follows his instructions, wrinkling her nose at the huge container of chicken. “What’s that weird brown stuff?”
“I marinated the chicken in teriyaki sauce, because I’m thoughtful.” His expression turns sour. “Unlike some people.”
I glare at him. “Fuck you, Asher.”
He sets the chicken aside, looking grim. “I’m sure that somewhere, someone’s fiancee is drunk and vulnerable. Shouldn’t you be there to seduce her?”
I sit my cup down in the sand. “I won’t tell you again. I did not come onto Jenna. For fuck’s sake, I didn’t even like her when she was your girlfriend.”
“You liked her enough to try to steal her the night before my wedding!” Asher growls.
“Guys—” Emma tries to intercede.
I get to my feet, clenching my fists. “Say it one more time, and I will destroy you.”
He rips off the leather apron, squaring off with me. “You ruined my life!”
“That’s enough!” Emma yells. “I am so sick of you both right now, honestly!” She stands up and comes up to me, pushing me away from Asher. “Come on. He’s making the food. You need to take a walk with me.”
I glare at Asher, sneering. Emma grabs my face, forcing my gaze down to meet her eyes. It’s an oddly intimate gesture, but it does actually force me to calm the fuck down.
“Move,” she orders me, giving me a little shove.
Fuming, I take off in the direction of the parking lot. Emma hurries to keep up with my long-legged strides across the sand. I’m furious, ready to rip into anyone who crosses my path.