“Duh.” She pulled me into another crushing hug, smashing my face into her breasts. “It’s a party! Why aren’t you as drunk as me?”
“Because someone stole my beer.” My voice was muffled by her boobs.
I was buzzing, but I wasn’t drunk.
She let go of me and wobbled on her heels.
“Steady there, girl.”
“Want to trade shoes?” She lifted one foot and shook a strappy sandal with a stiletto heel at me. “You’d look sexy in heels.”
“I don’t think that’s going to work.”
“Why not? I’m a size nine. I have big feet for a girl.”
“That’s a size seven in men’s. Not big at all.”
“What size do you wear?”
“Eleven.”
“In men’s?” She gaped at me.
“Yes.” I bit back my smile.
“Wow. You have big feet.” She giggled. “Bet you have a big dick too.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Isn’t that how it goes? Big feet, big dick?”
Darcy swooped over and tugged Elle away from me, saving me from having to answer.
“Don’t bother wasting your time on him. He only likes dick.”
Her voice was neutral, not condescending or rude, but her words still sent a prickle of irritation through me.
“I know.” Elle giggled but let Darcy pull her away. “He’s my gay bestie!”
I knew she was drunk and didn’t mean anything by it, but I hated that term. I was more than my sexuality, and being classified as her gay friend and not just her friend was a giant pet peeve of mine.
It happened all the time. Girls would find out I was gay and decide that made us instant best friends because I was safe. I liked Elle, and she was probably my closest, and pretty much only, friend at school, but I wasn’t her bestie.
“Your brother is Ash Summers, right?” Darcy asked me.
“Stepbrother.”
The mention of Ash’s name sent a ripple of irritation through me. I’d come to this party to forget about him and whatever the fuck was going on between us.
“Can you hook me up with him?”
“Um…” I looked between Darcy and Elle. “We’re not that close.”
Darcy sighed dramatically and cut her gaze across the room.
I followed it, and my chest tightened. Ash was standing against the far wall. I hadn’t seen him since that morning, and he looked unfairly good.
His hair was perfectly styled and artfully messy. Add in the dark wash jeans that hugged his thick thighs, the white tee that stretched across his perfect chest and showed off his shapely arms, and he looked like he’d just stepped out of a photo shoot.