I squeeze Carolina’s thigh in an attempt to stop her laughter—or at least calm it down—and I tilt my head down to whisper in her ear, “Carolina.”
She snorts between laughs. “They seriously did not just call each other their pet names in their vows.” She shoves her face into my neck to mask her giggles. “I can’t. Oh my God, I can’t.”
“Shh …” I repeat.
Scowls turn in our direction.
“And terrible pet names at that,” she adds.
Goose bumps rise along my skin when her wet lips brush against my neck.
“Do me a favor.” She draws back to peek up at me. “If you ever hear me call a boyfriend Tubba Wubba, I give you permission to drown me in your parents’ pool.”
It’s a struggle to hold back my chuckles. “You’re going to get us kicked out.”
Disapproving looks come from the people in our row, and I reply with an apologetic one.
“Good.” Carolina lowers her voice. “This wedding is lame, and the Tubba Wubba newlyweds need their alone time.”
She’s not wrong. This wedding has been a complete joke. The bride’s walk down the aisle was a fifteen-minute affair, and their vows have been a good twenty minutes. How no one is sleeping is beyond me.
“How many mimosas have you had?” I ask.
“Not enough to let me forget those god-awful vows,” she answers around a hiccup.
I grab her neck when she laughs louder and pull her face against my chest again. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
I’ve missed goofy Carolina.
She glances up at me after getting a handle on herself and taps my chest. “Technically, I brought you.”
“Fine, I can’t tag along with you anywhere.”
While everybody is focused on the wedding, we’re in our own little world.
Good thing we sat in the back.
Carolina talks a lot of shit about me flirting when she does a fair share of it herself.
Only she doesn’t realize she’s doing it.
Call me selfish, but I’ve scared off every friend who’s shown interest in her.
They don’t deserve her.
I left her alone for five minutes to get our drinks, and some lame dick has stolen my chair. A lame dick sporting an ill-fitting gray striped suit like he’s some D-list mob boss.
I place our drinks in front of him on the table and wrap my arms around Carolina’s shoulders from behind while she sits in her chair. “Hey, baby.”
She smiles up at me. “Hi.”
I hold my hand out for Lame Dick to shake and refrain from ripping it off his fucking arm when he does. “I’m Rex, her boyfriend.”
Lame Dick’s eyes widen. “Ah, dude, I didn’t know.”
He knew.
He’s been eye-fucking her all day, and since Carolina is my girlfriend this weekend, I’ve touched her and acted like her boyfriend.
“Now, you do.” My attention moves to Carolina as I offer her my hand. “Dance with me.”
She grins. “Oh, I guess.”
I pull her to her feet and turn her around, so we’re facing each other as soon as we hit the dance floor. I drag her close, my palms resting against the base of her back. Turns out, she wasn’t drunk on mimosas. She was only tipsy, and I made her suck down water as soon as the wedding ceremony ended. Her tipsiness has nearly worn off.
My chest constricts as I stare down at her and release what’s been on the tip of my tongue all day. “You’re the most gorgeous girl here.”
She’s wearing her contacts, showing off her round brown eyes. Her black dress hugs every curve of her body, and curves is something Carolina has plenty of. Her heels don’t bring her near to my height. She’s short, which I love because it’s easy to drag her head into my chest and kiss the top of her head.
It’s one of my favorite things to do.
No matter what, I love my hands on her—whether it’s an arm around the shoulders or hugging her face into my chest. I’m happy as hell that, on this trip, I get to do more than a simple arm draped around the shoulders, and I’ve been taking full advantage of that. Tonight, I’m being as handsy as I want.
I drop a hand to her waist, drawing her closer, and my other goes to her hand, weaving our fingers together as we dance.
She laughs when a sappy country song plays. “You have to say that. You’re my best friend.”
“And for the time being, your boyfriend,” I correct. “I don’t have to say that either. It’s the truth. If I were at the singles table and looking for a girl to corrupt, I would’ve done what the douche bag wearing the lame suit did and came to your table to hit on you.”
Her hand briefly leaves mine when she slaps my shoulder. “He was harmless.”
I raise a brow. “He wasn’t harmless. He was talking to my girlfriend.”
“I wasn’t interested in him.” She wraps her arms around my neck, resting them on my shoulders, and laughs again—this time louder. “I don’t even know how to flirt.”
She tips her head forward, her eyes meeting mine, and I brush my lips against her forehead.
“Oh, babe,” I say around a chuckle, “you most definitely know how to flirt. You just don’t realize you’re flirting.”
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”
“You do.” My grip tightens on her hips. “When you laugh at something someone says, your face is bright and shows how real you are. When you speak, you allow every emotion to pour out of you. Your amazing heart shows in every move you make, and someone would be dumb not to want that in their life.” I run my hands up and down her waist, and she shivers beneath my fingers. “I haven’t seen you flirt much, but I know when you’re doing it.”
Lies. She’s flirted with me plenty of times, but I haven’t seen her do it much with other guys.
“My flirt game sucks,” she mutters.
Heat creeps up my neck as she strokes the back of it with her fingers.
“Thank you for coming,” she says, her voice filled with tenderness. “I would’ve been miserable without you.”
I smile. “It’s my best-friend duty. You need me? I’m there.”
She laughs. “What’s my best-friend duty?”
I arch a brow, considering my options. “Hmm … I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
“Oh God,” she groans. “It’s going to be video games, isn’t it?”
“Possibly.” I squeeze her hips. “You love my video games.”
She grins up at me. “I love that you named the best woman character Carolina.”
“I actually changed that. You’re now the big, bad villain.”
She pinches the back of my neck, and I jerk forward.
“Whatever.” Her fingers rub the spot she pinched. “I thank the gods that you tried to bribe me that day. I would’ve been sitting miserable in the corner.”
“I thank the gods you gave me shit and allowed me to corrupt you.”
The music stops, and I dip her back.
“Thanks for the dance, Tubba Wubba.”
She narrows her eyes at me when I drag her back up. “I’m poisoning your cookies, FYI.”
My elbow is grabbed on my way back to Carolina after a restroom break.
“Hey, handsome,” a high-pitched voice purrs—trying and desperately failing at being seductive.
Lindsay, a girl from school and another one of Carolina’s cousins, stands in front of me.
Poor Carolina was blessed with some demon-ass family members.
Lindsay brushes a strand of brown hair behind her ear and thrusts her chest forward. “It’s so sweet of you to come with Carolina and play her date.”
I pluck her fingers off me as if she has Ebola and glare at her. “No, I came because I’m dating Carolina. No playing here.”
She rolls her eyes. “Please. Everyone knows you’ll do anything for her—be her prom date, take her on pity dates, fake being in a relationship with her—for God knows what reason.”
My jaw clenches. “I take her out on dates because I love her, not for fucking pity.”
“You play the part so well,” she throws back, “yet not once have you kissed her … not on the lips at least.” With this, she puckers her lips and kicks out her foot, showing her bare leg through the slit of her green dress. “Not to mention, you were in my roommate’s bed not too long ago. Did you forget about that? Either you were cheating on Carolina or, as I suspect, you’re lying so that she doesn’t look pitiful, hence the pity date.”
“Your roommate was more of a pity date than Carolina will ever be,” I snarl, my nostrils flaring.
How dare she call Carolina a fucking pity.
“As for you,” I go on, “you’ve flirted with me how many times and haven’t managed to snag yourself a pity date?”
I hate being a dick, but fuck this.
Fuck them for treating Carolina like shit when she has a heart of gold. When Lindsay’s mother was down with shingles for a month, Carolina put together a fundraiser dinner for her. She also made cookies for them countless times and dropped them off at her house.
Scorn passes over Lindsay’s face, and just as she’s about to speak, my name being called cuts her off.
“Hey! Rex!”
I glance back to find Carolina’s father, Rick, along with two other men approaching me.
Shit!
I scan the room for Carolina and grind my teeth when I spot the group of women circled around her. All conversation is aimed in her direction, and my body turns rigid when she gulps down a glass of champagne in one swig.
Goddamn it!
Carolina is a terrible drinker.
She has a low tolerance and doesn’t know her limit.
Shockingly, Carolina’s parents haven’t interrogated her about our dating lie, although she hasn’t spent much alone time with them. No doubt they’ll drill her with questions when they have her by herself.
“What do you think, Rex?”
I’m broken away from my Carolina trance when the man next to me claps.
“Huh?” I ask, sweeping my attention over to the men.
“I asked your thoughts on violence in video games.” The man gestures to Rick. “He said you develop video games.”
“I don’t have much to say on that matter,” I answer with annoyance while searching the room for Carolina when I don’t see her with the women anymore.
I spot her at the bar in the corner of the room, taking a shot, and the bartender is pouring another. I don’t give them another word before turning on my heel and speed-walking in her direction. Before I get the chance to confiscate her next shot, she knocks it back.
“Hey, babe,” I greet, sliding my arms around her waist.
“Hey,” she half-slurs, signaling to the bartender for another.
I hold up my hand, stopping him. “She’s good, bro.”
“She’s not, bro,” she corrects with an eye roll. “Make it a double.” Her palm slaps the counter. “And get my friend one—sorry, my boyfriend one.” She flicks her hand in the air. “Not a double for him. His job is to take care of me tonight, and one needs to be sober to do that.”
I clutch her elbow and tug her away from the bar, and she’s talking shit as I walk us toward the exit.
“How much have you had to drink?” I question, swinging her around to face me.
She holds two fingers apart from each other and squints one eye to focus on them. “Just a wee bit.”
“How much is a wee bit?”
She wrinkles her nose, her hand dropping to her side. “I lost count at the third glass of champagne and second shot of …” Her finger goes to her lower lip, and she clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Vodka maybe? It was something in a glass.”
“Jesus,” I hiss. “I leave you alone for five minutes.”
“Wrong. You left me alone for fifteen … with the sharks.” The sharks are the overbearing women in her family.
I raise my arms, apology spilling over my face. “I was cornered on my way back!”
“People already think we’re lying about being together. Let’s just prove them right.” Carolina also gets snarky when she drinks.
I reach out my hand. “Come on. Let’s go to your room.”
She smacks it away. “Let’s get me back to the bar, and you can go back to chatting with my cousin.”
Perfect. She saw me talking to Lindsay.
“We’re not doing this here.” I grip her hand, make sure she’s steady, and weave us through the people.
“Bye, Rex! Call me sometime!”
Carolina halts at Lindsay’s farewell. Knowing this might be a shitshow, I attempt to pull her away, but Carolina stands firm.
Lindsay is dumb enough to continue taunting Carolina, and she chirps out her words. “It was so nice seeing you and catching up. Want to hang out tomorrow? Grab breakfast?”
“Fuck you,” Carolina snarls, startling everyone. She points at me while holding strong eye contact with Lindsay. “You look dumb, hitting on a guy who’s coming to my room. He might’ve entertained your corner conversation for five minutes, but he entertains my bed.” She holds her middle finger up. “I win.”
I bite back my laughter. “Jesus, let’s get you out of here.”
Thankfully, she allows me to take her to the elevator, and her eyes are narrowed at me the entire ride. When we hit our floor, I take her key from my pocket and unlock the door.
“Entertain your bed, huh?” I ask as soon as we walk into the room and tilt my head toward the bed. “Is this the bed I’m doing that in?”
She falls back against the mattress and starts taking her heels off, tossing them across the room. “I have no idea what I meant, but it sounded better in my head.”
“It sounded like you told her I was going to fuck you in that bed of yours.” My cock hardens at the thought.
“I have no regrets. We’re dating, so it’s assumed we’re banging, considering you’re … well, you.”
“I won’t take that as an insult.” I clap my hands and rub them together. “Where are your pajamas?”
Her head jerks toward the dresser. “Folded in that thing.”
“Of course they are, you organized freak, you.”
“Hey,” she whines. “An organized life is a happy life.” She releases a heavy sigh. “When you were in the restroom, they asked me why I dropped out of school in sixteen different ways.” All the playfulness and snark in her tone has dissolved, sadness clouding her features.
“What’d you say?”
She shuts her eyes, a slow breath releasing from her chest. “My mind went blank. I might’ve said something about joining the circus.”
I stare at her in regret. “I’ll never leave you with those vultures again. Promise.”
“I can handle myself.”
“Never said you couldn’t, but tonight, you chose alcohol to help you. Replace me with alcohol next time, okay?” Replace me with alcohol every time.
She salutes me, a glimmer of a smile on her lips. “Got it, captain.”
I sift through her drawer, and my heart jolts as I ease out an unfamiliar item. “Now, my sweet Carolina, I thought I’d seen all your pajamas. Turns out, you’ve been hiding these.” I hold the nearly see-through blue lacy teddy in the air.
A blush covers her face before she buries it in her hands. “You’re not supposed to see that! It’s for bedroom eyes only!”
I hold it out, inspecting it. “Next time you spend the night, your ass had better be wearing this.”
“Not happening.” Her hands leave her face, and she shakes her head. “It’s uncomfortable and meant to be quickly taken off. Then, it stays off.”
I lean back against the dresser, crossing my ankles, and lift the teddy in the air. “Why’d you bring it? Who did you plan to wear it for … or take it off for?” My mouth turns dry at my question.
Did she plan on hooking up with someone here?
She sucks on her lower lip. “I don’t know … in case I met someone. I didn’t plan for you to play my boyfriend.”
I hold a finger up. “Stop right there, young lady. You’re either going to make me jealous or have my imagination running wild.” Too late. I run my fingers over the lace while my mind starts racing of thoughts in her wearing this teddy.
She grabs a pillow and throws it at me. “Whatever. You’d see me as one of your guy friends wearing that.”
“You’ve never been more wrong in your life,” I grumble around a gulp after dodging the pillow.
“What if I wear it now?”
I snort. “Funny.”
“I’m serious.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Isn’t that what a girlfriend would do? And this weekend, I’m your girlfriend.” Challenge spills along her words. “Oh, wait. You can’t be my boyfriend if you were screwing Lindsay’s roommate not too long ago.”
I shove the teddy back into one drawer and open the one underneath it, finding a pair of sweats and a white tank top. “That’s why you’re pissed?”
“Duh. My date has been screwing other women.”
“Screwed. Haven’t touched her roommate in months, and I’m not touching anyone here. Since when do you believe your cousins? What the hell?”
“Forget it,” she huffs out.
I set her pajamas on the edge of the bed and rest my knee next to them, halfway crawling up the mattress until our faces are only inches apart. Cupping hers with both my hands, I run my thumb over her soft, freckle-kissed cheek and then pull myself up. “Now, stand and get your pajamas on.”
“Fine,” she whines, sliding off the bed, “but I need you to unzip me.”
A shiver runs up my spine when I stand behind her and stare at the zipper running down the back of her dress. The room turns silent; the only sound I hear is my raging heartbeat. My fingers are tense when I grab the zipper of her dress, dragging it down, and the dress pools around her feet in what seems like slow motion. I draw in a breath, unable to stop myself from taking her in.
Jesus.
Standing in front of me is my best friend … wearing only a nude-colored thong. Her skin warms at my touch as I stupidly and bravely brush my fingers along her waist. Her breathing shudders, and she grinds back into me, rubbing her ass against the erection I shouldn’t have.
“Rex,” she whispers.
I fight with myself on why I’m being such an idiot when I skim my hand along the bottom of her bare breast. Why the hell wasn’t she wearing a bra? Good thing I didn’t know, or it’s all I would’ve thought about tonight.
She tilts her head to the side. “My necklace.”
As my fingers stroke the bottom of her breast, I use my other hand to sweep her hair off her shoulder and unclasp the pearl necklace I bought her for Christmas. Our connection stays when I carefully set the necklace onto the bed. Never has my heart pounded so intensely when I replace my hand resting on her neck with my lips, skimming them along her soft skin.
“Tell me to stop,” I hiss. “Fuck, Lina. Tell me.”