I raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”
“In bars. Lie for your friends.”
“Yes, but I usually tell annoying guys that she’s a lesbian. Do you want me to tell Amanda that you’re gay?”
He paused for a moment. “I have nothing against gay people, but—”
“That usually means you do.”
“My brother is gay.”
“Okay, you win that round.”
He bit back a laugh. “But I think my highly conservative, Bible-belt-living, Jesus-loving grandfather would roll over in his grave if another one of us came out.”
“Are you saying you’re in the closet?”
“Are you? You’re the one who won’t sleep with me.”
“So that makes me a lesbian?” I rolled my eyes. “I would sleep with you, Kai, but exactly that. Sleep.”
“Can I grope you in your sleep?”
“If you’d like a trip to the ER with a broken nose and an explanation about why you’re there.”
He touched his nose. “No. I need my ruggedly handsome good looks to catcall women from the top of scaffolding.”
“Do you do that?”
“No, but it’s fun watching my friends when they do.” He shrugged. “I prefer to woo my women.”
“Oh, shit. Is that what you’ve been doing for the last few hours?”
“It usually goes better than this,” he admitted.
I grimaced. “Sorry. You weren’t exactly clear.”
He finished his drink and motioned for one for both of us. It was ten-thirty and the party was still going. It looked much prettier now than earlier, with fairy lights strung up around the rooftop, threading through the tall fencing that was stopping over-zealous old people from falling off the edge. The tables and chairs that had been set up each had a light in the middle of the table, and the makeshift bar we were standing at was similarly lit up, with both the bar surface and the top part shining bright with twinkling lights.
All it did was show me one shameless fact: I was getting out-partied by pensioners.
Again, I was a lightweight.
“I asked you out. How much clearer can I be?” He put my new drink in front of me and waited for me to finish sucking the last of my cocktail out of the glass through the straw. “I’m not sure how else I can tell you I’m attracted to you.”
“Okay, now I know that’s the tequila talking.”
“Is it?” He raised his eyebrows as he switched out my empty glass for the full one.
“Yes, because you’re trying to get me drunk.” I picked up the new glass pointedly.
“Is it working?”
I slapped his arm. “Shut up. If you’re so attracted to me, why has it taken you eight months to tell me? Oh, wait, because it’s the tequila.”
“That, and I was hoping you’d actually make out with me to put Amanda off.”
“See? It’s all about something else.”
He rubbed his hand down his face. “That came out wrong.”
I put my straw between my lips and sipped, giving him the kind of look that told him he was correct. It had.
Very, very wrong.
CHAPTER THREE
“Maybe it is the tequila,” Kai said, raising his glass. “But all it’s doing is giving me the balls to tell you I want you.”
I was loath to believe him. Maybe it was my own lack of self-confidence in the dating department, considering I didn’t really have such a department, or maybe it was my gut telling me this was a very, very bad decision.
Wait, what decision? I hadn’t made one yet. I hadn’t even entertained one. I didn’t know what I was supposed to make a decision about.
Lord, my brain was running away from me.
“Shots!” came the shout from elsewhere on the roof.
Before I could do a thing, Kai grabbed my hand and dragged me over to the long table that had been set up purely for this reason.
How the hell were these oldies still drinking? And why was I still drinking? I’d only intended to be here for an hour.
God, I was going to regret this tomorrow.
Kai sat me down in a chair and took the seat next to me. Two shots were lined up in front of me, complete with the requisite lime wedges and saltshaker.
I was wincing already.
Vincent took the seat to my left, and Isabella Valentino and fifty-five-year-old Mavis Barr took the empty ones to the right of Kai.
“One, two, no breaks!” My upstairs neighbor, Eddie Price, held out his hands like he was the girls in the Fast and Furious movies about to start a drag race.
Thank God he wasn’t wearing a mini skirt, that’s all I could say.
“Lick your hand! Shake the salt! Drink the tequila! Suck the lime!” Eddie barked. “Lick, salt, tequila, lime! Lick! Shake! Drink! Suck! You know the rules!”
Great. Now I was drinking to the dictatorship of a pensioner.
“Sounds like a good night to me,” Kai muttered.
I kicked him under the table.
“And go!”
I did as I was told—licked the back of my hand, shook salt to lick, downed the tequila, and sucked on the lime. No sooner had I dropped the wedge then Eddie was barking at us to start the second one.
I wasn’t even sure I’d swallowed the tequila.
Still, I did it.
Lick. Salt. Lick. Tequila. Lime.
I was one mouthful of tequila away from throwing up over the table.
Wincing, I waved my hands that I was done and pushed back my chair, getting away from the crazies before I was coerced into even more shots. Kai followed me back to the bar, laughing, and we perched again on our stools and grabbed our drinks.
“I can’t believe you made me do that,” I muttered, motioning for some water. I was handed a small plastic cup and downed it before sliding the cup back. “Straight tequila is the worst!”
He chuckled, leaning against the bar. “You haven’t done one all night. If I didn’t, Vincent would have, and you know the next round is without the lime.”
“I still don’t understand how these old people can party so long and so hard,” I replied. “I swear to God, I’m almost done. I literally cannot drink anymore after this.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Really? Are you that much of a lightweight?”
“Yep. I just can’t take much more. Those shots might have finished me off.”
He downed the rest of his drink and motioned for another. “I need to catch up.”
I stared at him. “You’re not still on this ‘have a date’ kick, are you?”
“No. I’ve given up on that. I thought I might charm you into bed instead.” He took the bottle of beer he was handed and downed a third of it. “Any chance of that?”
I kicked him.
“I was joking.” He laughed, putting the beer down. “You’ve made yourself perfectly clear, Ivy. You aren’t interested. I’m genuinely enjoying hanging out with you, but it seems unfair if you’re more drunk than I am.”
I narrowed my eyes. I wasn’t entirely sure I trusted him—mostly because I knew that it wasn’t that I wasn’t interested.
Oh, I was in.
I was very interested in Kai Connors—what was under his shirt, in his pants, what it felt like to have his hands grip my ass.