“I didn’t get a look at him.”
“Well next time, if he’s cute, send him my way.” She winks, and I laugh and brace my hands on the bar, still trying to catch my breath. Dee leans back against it, propping her elbows on top with her chest out in the most casually provocative pose she can muster. It works like a charm, because within seconds, two guys are in front of her.
“You girls looked amazing out there.”
I’m still facing away from them, not interested. When they ask us to dance, Dee reaches over and grabs my hand.
I turn around and give the guys an apologetic smile. “I have a boyfriend.”
“So?” Dee says. “Pleeease, Ro? Just one dance!”
“You go,” I insist, nudging her toward the dance floor.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, go. I’m going to hang here for a while. I need a break.”
Her perfectly shaped eyebrows pull together. “I’ll stay if you want me to . . .”
I know she would, but I shoo her from the bar anyway. “GO!”
She laughs, her brown eyes sparkling with contagious excitement. “Okay, I’ll be back soon!”
Both boys follow her like puppy dogs, and I smile to myself, knowing they’re both in trouble.
After losing sight of her, I pull my phone out of my clutch purse and sigh when I realize there are no missed calls from Brady. It’s almost ten o’clock, and I really wish he would’ve called to say goodnight. But he probably knew it would be loud in here, and he was probably exhausted from working all day. He’s out of town for the weekend again, on yet another long-distance job for the advertising firm his uncle owns, and I’ve grown accustomed to sitting by the phone—he joined the company right after graduating, when I was still a sophomore, and traveling to meet with clients has always been a big part of the job. Still, the trips have been more and more frequent lately, and they always feel way longer than they really are.
My fingers type a quick text.
Miss you. Having a blast but wish you were here! Hope your day wasn’t too rough. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow! I love you.
I tuck my phone back into my purse and turn around, laughing when I spot Dee in the crowd, sandwiched between her two club gorillas and outshining them both. She looks amazing, and she knows it. In high school, she wasn’t on the cheerleading squad but she dated most of the football team. Most of the other girls hated her, but she didn’t care and neither did I. She had a well-earned bad reputation, but she never tried to be anyone she wasn’t. She’s real, and I love that about her.
When a stool opens up at the bar, I immediately dive onto it. My last drink is long gone, so I pull out my paper-thin wallet and flag the bartender.
I order another vodka cranberry and try to pull out cash to pay, but before I can manage, a thick hand covers mine. “A fox like you should never have to pay for her own drink.” The guy uses his other hand to slip the bartender a credit card, and I sigh, looking up into plain brown eyes deeply set into a meathead face.
“I have a boyfriend,” I say, trying not to sound rude but feeling pretty exasperated. With the number of times I’m having to repeat that tonight, it would’ve been easier to get the words tattooed on my forehead.
“Is he here?”
“No . . .”
“Then he’s an idiot. Dance with me.” The guy grabs my drink with one hand and tries to coax me off my stool with the other.
“No thanks.”
“Aw, come on,” he persists, refusing to stop tugging at my hand. “Don’t make me beg.”
“Sorry.” I pull out of his grip and settle back on my seat.
“Why the hell would you come here dressed like that if you’re just going to be a tease?” he snaps, but I ignore him completely, flagging the bartender again.
When the meathead calls me a slut and walks away—with my drink—I roll my eyes and order another, which I pay for myself before any other assholes have the chance to intercede. If I’m a slut, then Mother Teresa was too, because I might as well be her. Brady’s father is a pastor, so Brady made the decision for both of us that we’d be waiting until marriage—whenever that’s going to be. He agreed to live together, under the condition that we have separate bedrooms, but second base is getting harder and harder to stick to. I know I’m only eighteen, but we’ve been in a committed relationship for three years already, and now we’re living together and, well, what the hell is he waiting for?