This type of flirting is normal for them. Unlike Finn and me, they’ve never held back their desire for the other. Although they swear they’ve never acted on it. They find it normal, as friends, to sit on each other’s laps, dance together, and share a bed.
At times, I wish I could be as brave as her. To flirt with Finn and not be scared of judgment or rejection.
Lola tips her head down, her dark hair becoming a curtain around their faces. I covet the confidence she has. The girl gives no fucks.
My hand clamps over my mouth when she shifts and straddles him.
“Holy shit,” Georgia mutters at the same time Finn says, “That’s a new one.”
Cohen leans in. “I’ve never seen it go that far between them.”
All eyes are on them. Lola whispers in Silas’s ear. Sierra, the closest to them, scoots in closer to eavesdrop.
“Are they about to bang right there?” Lincoln asks when Lola grinds into Silas’s lap.
“Nah,” Archer states matter-of-factly. “Those two play mind games with each other.” He dances his fingers over Georgia’s thigh. “Remember when we used to do that shit, babe?”
Georgia tilts her head to the side. “Mind games wasn’t straddling and grinding against you.”
“This won’t end well,” Finn says. “She’s drunk, and Silas is annoyed.”
I steer my attention back to tonight’s entertainment. Silas’s shoulders are rigid, and his jaw is clenched. He’s anchored his hands to Lola’s hips, halting her from griding more as they converse. The serious expression on his face tells me to look away, but I can’t. I gasp when Lola grips Silas’s hand and drags it down to her thigh.
Silas abruptly stands, his face hot with a fury I’ve never witnessed from him, causing Lola to drop onto the floor.
“Goddammit, Lola,” he huffs, a wince spreading across his whole face, and he raises his voice. “Drink some water because you’re being a sloppy fucking drunk.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, regret flashes across his face.
Everyone is silent, watching this play out.
“Come on.” He puts his hand out to help her up, but she pushes it away.
Lola’s eyes water as she pulls herself to her feet. “No, I don’t want your help.”
“I’m sorry.” His voice breaks.
“I think you should go.” She adjusts her dress and folds her arms over her stomach while failing to meet anyone’s gaze. “That’s what I want from you for my birthday. To leave.” This is the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen Lola.
“Fine.” Silas pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ll go.”
Just as he turns to walk away, we hear,” Well, well, look what we have here,” come from a voice I don’t recognize.
I shift in my seat and find a man I’ve never seen before standing at the head of the table, running his hands together. Two guys stand behind him, a few inches back, like they’re his right-hand men. He’s tall with dark hair and a clean-shaven face. Even though he’s not wearing an expensive suit and tie, his casual clothes are just as pricey as what they would cost.
“Uh-oh,” Finn says. “This night might get worse than it already was.”
“What do you mean?” I ask without glancing at him.
The guy rubs his hands together. “Silas fucking Malone.”
Silas slowly turns to face the mystery man and icily stares him down. He steps to the side to block off Lola from the guy’s view.
The man moves in closer and strokes his jaw. “I haven’t seen you in forever. You act as if your family doesn’t exist.”
“I’m a busy man,” Silas says, his tone challenging.
“Busy, huh?” he scoffs, scanning our area and taking in the surroundings. “Enough time for a birthday party though, huh? Who’s the birthday someone?”
Lola steps around Silas. “Me.”
The man runs his tongue over his lips. “Goddamn, the birthday girl is hot.” He delivers a cocky smile while holding out his hand to her. “I’m Trent, Silas’s brother.”
“Stepbrother,” Silas corrects with a snarl. “No blood relation. Thank fucking God.”
“Oh, come on, brother,” Trent mocks. “Let’s forget about the past. How about this? Let’s share a drink. We can go to my table—which is larger and surrounded by NBA and NFL players and other high-profile people—or stay here.”
Silas works his jaw. “Nah, we’re good. Go hang out with your high-profile friends and beat feet.”
Trent doesn’t pay Silas a glance. Lola has all of his attention. “At least let me buy the birthday girl a drink.”
“She’s had enough to drink,” Silas snaps, popping his knuckles.
Archer hauls himself to his feet, joining Silas, and Lincoln does the same. Trent chuckles at Silas now having his right-hand men.
Lola chews on her lower lip. “I wouldn’t mind a birthday Sprite, though. I don’t want to be hungover tomorrow.”
“I think you’ve already crossed that line,” Silas says.
Trent snaps his fingers. “A birthday Sprite it is.” He does a sweeping gesture toward the table. “Any of these guys your boyfriend?”
His eyes level on Silas, no doubt knowing his reaction to Trent’s flirtation will be a sign that Silas likes her.
Lola doesn’t cast one glance toward Silas before answering, “Nope.”
Silas curses under his breath and wipes his forehead with the back of his arm.
This isn’t Lola.
She’s not spiteful.
She’d never want to purposely hurt Silas.
What is going on with them?
I can’t blame her, though. She has to be hurting from Silas’s rejection. She’s prideful, someone not typically turned down. If I was coming down from the rejection of a lifetime, of a man practically dumping me on the floor, I’d take that Sprite offered by a dreamy man.
Our waitress comes scrambling toward us, nearly tripping on her heels, holding a tray of drinks. “Sorry! I got caught up at a table.”
“Totally fine,” I say, taking my seltzer water and handing Finn his.
She turns and halts when she notices Trent. “Hey, Trent. Can I get you something?” She giggles.
“Nah, I’m good, Abby.” He wiggles his fingers toward Lola, causing Abby to frown. “I’m going to escort the birthday girl to the bar, get her a drink, and we can talk more privately.”
He holds out his elbow, and Lola is smart to scurry forward. Her action puts more space between Trent and Silas, possibly preventing a fight.
Silas starts to follow them, but Archer snags his elbow to pull him back.
“Unless you plan on making things right with Lola this minute, sit your ass down,” Archer grinds out. “You just humiliated the girl in front of everyone on her fucking birthday. Don’t do it a second time.”
“Let him get her a drink while you think about your weird asshole actions,” Georgia chimes in.
Silas slumps down into his chair. A man who always exudes confidence appears as if he took a beatdown.
“What the hell was that about?” Cohen asks. “Why would you do that shit to Lola?”