“That was harsh,” he says. I look up at him.
Fuck me silly.
It’s another tall blonde – how many of them are here? – but this one has the brightest green eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. They look like emeralds.
“I…what?”
He jerks his head toward the bar, where the man I left behind is already sipping a fresh beer.
“You shot him down pretty hard.”
“Oh, well…” My voice trails off as I take in this green-eyed beauty. He has to know he’s completely gorgeous, right? “I’m not looking for anything serious right now.”
Sexypants takes a step forward and looks down at me.
“You’re in a bar, sweetheart. I don’t think he wants to marry you.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I say, only my voice seems to have dried up, and it’s hard to get the words out. Why is he standing so close to me?
“Tell me what you meant, then, darling.” He’s leaning down to my ear now, whispering the words. I should move. He’s being too forward. I should move and leave, but I can’t, and I don’t really want to.
“I don’t want to sleep with him,” I manage to whisper. He probably can’t even hear me over the noise in the bar. My heart is beating a million beats per second. Everything tells me this is a bad idea. I’m talking to a stranger who obviously knows my brother, who is here to celebrate his birthday, who is here having a good time. He’s only here for fun.
He’s not here to sweep me off my feet.
Then again, maybe that’s not what I need right now. Maybe I don’t think to think so seriously, so deeply about these things. Maybe it’s enough to get my mind off the disaster that is my life.
Maybe it’s enough to just find someone to spend time with.
Maybe sex is enough for tonight.
“Why’s that sweetheart? You got a boyfriend hiding somewhere around here?” The man’s body is pressing against mine now. We’re chest-to-chest, and each time I breathe, my breasts rise and fall, pressing against him.
I’m very aware of every part of my body, of every bit of my skin.
“No,” I squeak out.
“Then dance with me.”
He pulls me to the center of the room. The dance floor is packed, but Mr. Gorgeous doesn’t seem to mind. He holds my waist and moves his body like he’s a professional dancer instead of one of my brother’s friends.
He’s my brother’s friend.
I keep trying to tell myself, but despite the warning bells going off in my bed, I’m caught up in the moment, swept into everything that’s happening.
“How do you know Richard?” I manage to ask. I have to stand on my tip-toes and yell into his ear because the music is so loud.
“We were roommates in college,” he says. “For a year.”
I quickly go through the list of people my brother lived with. I can name most of his roommates and I’ve met all of them at various functions over the years except for one.
“You must be Aidan, then,” I say, and the look of surprise on his face delights me.
“Lucky guess,” he says, quickly collecting himself. “How’d you know my name?”
“Richard and I are pretty close,” I tell him, but I start laughing when I see the look of concern on his face. He thinks I’m Richard’s girlfriend. Gross. “He’s my brother.”
I wonder if this will scare Aidan off. Am I off-limits because I’m the little sister? Most guys would run away. Most guys would be scared.