“I believe I showed you that this morning.”
Boy, did he.
21
Klaus
I intend to play a round or two of limbo with Jillian, but as it gets close to our turns, I change my mind. There are too many cameras filming, many of them aimed at me. The last thing I want is to be on stranger’s Instagram feeds, them soaking up fifteen minutes of viral fame while using me to get it. As Jillian dips down to go first, I butt out. By the time she goes under the broom pole, to polite claps, smiling wide and searching for me, she immediately scowls.
“You faker!” she shouts.
I lift my hands out to my sides and shrug. It’s too loud for me to yell back at her, and as I attempt to make my way toward her, already cheering on the other fools, a feminine hand wraps around my elbow.
I tense immediately. I can imagine Julianna has some thoughts about the attention stolen from her tonight due to yours truly but when I turn, I see someone else.
An attractive blonde with light green eyes almost the color of mint and a red dress that matches her nail polish on her fingers is gripping my elbow.
“I’ve been waiting all night to talk to you.”
“Excuse me?” I saw her earlier talking to Jillian. They seemed friendly and their conversation had Jillian genuinely smiling, but I’ve been here long enough to know there are vipers in our midst.
“I’m Adrianna. Come have a drink with me?”
“Why would I do that?” I rock back on my heels and slide my hands into my pockets.
“Because you and I both love Jillian, so I figure we should get to know one another. Come on. I’m harmless. Promise.”
“I doubt that.”
Her grin is a mile wide and her laugh is carefree.
“Easy there, hockey superstar. I don’t want anything from you except conversation. Cross my heart.” She makes the sign with her index finger over her chest, but I keep my gaze on her eyes.
She has me curious, though. “I’m not drinking, but I’m happy to keep you company.”
“Of course you are. I’m awesome.”
This girl. She has a personality as large as Jillian’s. Up until now, I wasn’t sure that it was possible, but it does explain why, if they’re friends, they connect.
We reach the end of the bar. Cheers from the limbo contest ring loud in the background, more muted conversations and tinkling laughter echo around us.
“I have to admit, Jillian and I have been friends for years and not to be rude, but I don’t believe she’s ever mentioned you. Care to explain why?”
“Who knows? Maybe she didn’t want you to run down here and sweep me off my feet. She probably wants you all to herself.”
“Hm.” There’s a gleam in this girl’s eyes. I can’t decide if it’s playfulness or vindictiveness.
“You’re not buying it?” She takes a sip from her glass and sets it on the bar. “No. Probably not. And your rudeness aside, I’m not offended. Jillian and I have been friends since we were kids. We keep in touch, not weekly or even monthly, but I would venture to guess she’s one of the most genuine people you’ll ever meet, certainly one of the best women I’ve ever known.”
Adrianna’s tone softens enough I believe she’s being honest. “So what do you want with me?”
“To see if you love her as much as it looks like you do, or if you two really are just friends like she claims.” She shrugs.
My insides turn cold. Just friends? After this morning? That’s what Jillian still thinks of us? Granted, my approach this weekend hasn’t been nearly as direct as I could have been, but if there’d been a question about what I wanted before this morning, I thought I’d erased anything when I made love to her.
And that’s what it was. Not sex. Not fucking. Not even friends with benefits. No two people connect in bed like we did unless there are serious emotions involved.
She was able to pull that off because we’re friends?
What in the hell have I been doing?
“She said that to you?”
I glance at the bar. A drink has never sounded so good. Something to wash away the burn in my gut.
Friends.
I’ve never hated a singular word before now.
“Yeah, but gosh, you two look like you belong together when I’ve seen you together today. You’re really just friends?”
“Um. Yeah.” I choke it out. No point in throwing myself on this sword. Not to someone I barely know. “We’re friends.”
“Just friends?” She leans in, an impish grin curling her lips up. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Of course. What else would we be?”
“Hmph.” She takes another sip. “That’s so disappointing.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because usually my radar for people meant to be together is more spot on.” She shrugs as if it means nothing, completely unaware she’s just punched me straight into the chest harder than any slam I’ve had into the boards. “Oh well. I suppose that means I don’t have to interrogate you regarding your intentions for my friend then. Enjoy your night.”
She raises her glass in a toasting gesture and glides off, like she hasn’t just rocked my entire world.
I wait at the bar until I get a glass of whiskey and face the crowd, searching for Jillian. I can’t see her anywhere. The limbo game is winding down and slow music plays. I push and slide through the dance floor, certain she’ll be out here living it up but still can’t find her.
I do, however, find her dad. “Hey, Mr. Stearns. Have you seen Jillian?”
“Sure. I saw her headed toward the restroom a few minutes ago.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Please, Klaus. Call me Stetson.”
He slaps my shoulder as I pass him, like we’re old friends. Earlier, that might have been the oddest part of the night but then there were conga lines and limbo competitions and Adrianna rocking my world. Stetson acting like we’ve known each other forever is a mere speck compared to how bizarre this night has turned.
The hallways outside the restrooms are empty so I settle myself against the wall, drink in hand, foot braced to the wall.
What in the hell am I even doing here? Trying to convince Jillian we’re something else?
Has she really not felt anything more for me this weekend?
I’ve screwed this up, somehow. I wasn’t clear enough with what I wanted, what I thought she agreed to. On the flip side, it’s entirely possible she was very much aware. She just doesn’t want the same thing as me. I swallow that thought with another swig of my drink.
Friends.
“Hell.”
My glass is half-emptied by the time the door opens and Jillian comes out, dressed to kill in the baby blue dress she’s wearing that flares at her knees, belts at her waist, and is loose on top. She looks regal and beautiful… and like she’s been crying.
“What’s wrong?” I push off the wall.
She’s so busy wiping beneath her eyes, she jumps.
“You scared me,” she says, placing her hand on her chest. “What are you doing here?”
“What happened?” My hand cups her cheek and she flinches when I touch her. What the hell? “Jilly-Bean?”