Her lips parted, but before she could say anything, she was pushed into my chest. Forcefully.
Rosie gasped as my arms draped around her, holding her to my chest, my hands immediately feeling the liquid running down her back.
“This really has to stop,” I gritted under my breath.“¿Qué cojones le pasa a esta gente?”
Because seriously, what the hell was wrong with everyone at this goddamn party?
I looked up, finding some person dressed like a… Chewbacca? He turned around and took his hairy head off and tucked it under his arm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there, sweetheart.”
Ignoring the way he eyed Rosie and thatsweethearthe’d let drop like there hadn’t been a man—me—holding her, I looked down at Rosie. “You okay, Ro?”
“Yes.” She nodded quickly, not moving out of my embrace. “But I’m completely covered in whatever he’d been drinking.”
She was. And from the way the fabric of her dress felt between my fingers, I could tell just how much.
Chewbacca stepped closer to us. “Please, let me take care of the dry-cleaning bill.” He shoved a business card in Rosie’s face, then added, “My number is there. You can give me a call. Or let me get you a drink, I’ll make it up to—”
“It’s okay, really.” Rosie cut him off, not accepting it. “No need for any of that.”
Good, now scatter, an illogical and basic part of me wanted to say.
“You sure?” Chewbacca insisted. “Not even the drink?”
“I’m sure.” She gave the man a polite smile, leaning more into me. “But thank you.”
Chewbacca stared at her for a beat longer than necessary, as if he’d been waiting for her to change her mind.
I frowned, holding myself back from barking something at this guy because one, I had no right to. And two, Rosie had handled herself fine without me.
So instead, I threw an arm around her shoulders like I’d been dying to do the whole night. Too damn bad it had to be now that she was drenched, and I was a little pissed.
“Let’s get you dry. The bathrooms must be somewhere close. I’ll help you clean up.”
Treading the swarm of dancing creatures, superheroes, and more than a fair share of pop culture references I didn’t get, we finally found the restrooms.
Rosie untangled herself from me, leaving me behind.
Choosing to ignore etiquette, or society rules in general, I followed her in, and the moment she caught my reflection in the mirror, she came to a halt. “Lucas, what are you doing?”
“Helping you out.” I gave her my best smile. “Like I said. And before you think of complaining. Yes, I have to. And yes, I want to.”
“This is the ladies’ room. You shouldn’t be here.”
I looked around to make sure there wasn’t anyone else in here. “I’ve always been curious about it,” I lied. I only wanted to be there because of her. I felt a little overprotective at the moment. “Wondered why women spend so long in here.”
Ignoring me, Rosie grabbed a few expensive-looking paper towels.
Spotting an upholstered chaise longue by a corner, I smirked. “See? Now that would be one explanation. You get to lay down for a bit. Unwind. Do you get refreshments delivered here, too?”
Rosie stopped patting her shoulders with the towels and looked over. “You’re ridiculous.” But she laughed, which I always considered a win. “I thought you were here to help me?”
I perked up. “I am.”
“Then come over here and help me.”
“Oh.” I patted my chest. “I love when you boss me around, Graham,” I said as I made my way to her, crossing the unnecessarily spacious and large room. Her arm was stretched over her shoulder, trying to reach a spot in her back. “Hold on, let me get that.”
“Thanks,” she said quietly.