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“I swear to God, if I never hear ‘there’s no I in we again’, it’ll be too soon,” Kyla sighed as she swished some vodka orange into her cranberry-glossed mouth.
Kyle nodded, drinking deeply himself. “Who would’ve known that relationship conference was just a thinly-disguised Christian camp?”
“Uh, me?” Grayson said, raising a finger.
Kyle smiled sweetly as he gave him the finger.
“I mean, I hate to say ‘I told you so’,” Grayson continued. “But, I did tell you so.”
Linking his arm in Kyla’s, Kyle threaded away, “Gonna get us some more drinks.”
As soon as he left, Grayson took in the scene. They’d gotten a pretty good turnout for their pre-wedding clubbing expedition; there were a few girls, apparently friends of Kyla’s, who were already hitting up the dance floor. Randy and Charlie, primary school friends of his and Kyle’s, had shown up too. The ball-capped pair stood further down the bar, their eyes on the game on the TV screen.
He smiled as his gaze stopped on Kyle and Kyla poking each other like goofs as they waited for their drinks. They did look like they were having a ball. He could see why. After their Bible camp relationship conference, they’d been just about desperate for some actual fun, which involved alcohol and friends.
Now that the spot beside him was free, a busty redhead leaned on the bar next to him, eyeing him significantly. A smile wobbled onto her face. “You lift, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Where did women come up with these boring-ass pickup lines? No, I was just born this way, muscles bursting out of my shirt, and all.
“Cool place here, huh?” she continued, in a twangy country voice.
“Super cool,” he replied.
Further down the bar on the other side stood Annie and... what the hell was Jermaine doing there?
Grayson had to resist the urge to laugh. Jermaine was much the same as when he and Kyle had known the guy in college; red dreads to his shoulders and a crack-toothed smile. He was definitely going to have more than he bargained with as far as Annie went.
Shooting the redhead a parting smile, Grayson wandered over a bit closer. Now this was going to be interesting, if not hilarious.
Watching, he wasn’t disappointed. Jermaine was pulling out all the stops; the shoulder touch, the dipped-in head. He’d already bought Annie a drink, which sat beside another untouched one. Grayson bit back his smile. This was just too much. Poor Annie looked like she wanted to sink into the tiles and become one.
There was only one thing to do. Swooping in, Grayson angled his body so that it cut in between Jermaine and Annie.
“Sorry, man,” he told the skinny guy, “But Annie and I have wedding business to discuss.”
Jermaine lingered for a minute like he wanted to argue, but then shrugged and strode off, his head roving for his next project.
“You’re welcome,” Grayson said, grinning. “Though really, I did it for myself. Even way over there,” he pointed to where he’d been standing, “you looked so awkward that I felt awkward.”
Annie’s eyes flashed, “Thanks a lot.”
She grabbed her glass, drank it all in one still-glaring gulp, and then whirled on her heel, “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
He caught her by the arm, “Hey – wait. I’m sorry.”
As she aimed her glare his way once again, Grayson explained, “I didn’t know it bothered you. I was only kidding.”
Annie sighed, letting her arm sag out of his grasp, “It’s fine. I just... wish it wasn’t that noticeable.”
Grayson gaped at her, “Seriously? But flirting is like the easiest thing in the world for girls.”
She glowered at him, “Oh yeah?”
“Yep,” he nodded, expressively. “Like...” he squinted, trying to think of the manifold things that turned him on. “...I mean, all you have to do is pretty much smile and laugh when in doubt.”
Still, she looked less than convinced – or amused.
“Certain touches don’t hurt,” he added, significantly.
She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, I’ll bet.” She whacked him with the back of her hand and Grayson grinned. “See? I’m turned on already.”
Before her hand could dart away again, Grayson captured it in his. Those baby blues of hers were nothing short of traps themselves. Now it was the second time that, when looking into them, he found he couldn’t look away.
“Come dance with us!” It was Kyla, tugging eagerly at her friend.
Annie held her ground, “Sorry Ky, you know I don’t dance.”
“Ugh!” Kyla sighed loudly, tugging to no avail. “Please? Just this once?”
She waited for another few seconds before declaring “Party pooper!” and racing off to the dance floor.
“Seriously?” Grayson asked.
As soon as her friend had left them, the guilt left Annie’s face, too. “Seriously.”
“Why not?”
“Because I look like a spastic monkey while dancing.”
Grayson considered this and then pursed his lips. “Ever consider you may look like a spastic monkey while not dancing?”
She scowled at him. She seemed to be responding that way a lot to Grayson’s comments.
“Wrong thing to say,” Grayson admitted. “But seriously.”
She folded her arms across her chest.
“You do realize that on the dance floor,” he pointed out, “the music’s so loud that it’ll blare out anything I say.”
The next second she was striding onto the dance floor where the disco light was splashing the crowd with blue and purple stars.
“Really, I should be insulted,” Grayson said, following close behind. “But I’m counting this as a victory.”
“Count this as whatever you want,” Annie said, although she was smiling.
At the sight of her friend, Kyla whooped. Together, Grayson and Annie joined the large group, almost taking up the whole dance floor that consisted of Kyla and Kyle’s friends. Grayson recognized a few familiar faces even outside the circle, including the redhead from before whose extended stare was as good as a beckon.
But, what surprised Grayson the most was that as they all did the lawnmower dance move together, there was a weird thing going on in his chest.
It was like he’d gained an extra lung, or something. Like he could float up and up and up, above all of them, smile a mile wide, and pop like some child’s Mickey Mouse balloon.
Like, with an empty bed nearly guaranteed tonight, and nothing but dancing with friends and chatting with Kyle, and maybe Annie, on the menu, that was all he would’ve wanted anyway.
