She swallows thickly. “Yeah.”
Before we can say anything else, an attendant arrives, and I give him the rundown. Then I tell him that they’re doing a piss-poor job if they care about consent. The attendant’s head bobs as he dashes off to look for Prince Rolex.
I focus back on the girl, pushing my anger away. She’s tiny and delicate, maybe five-five in heels, her head barely reaching my pecs.
She weaves on her feet. “I said hello to him once—once. Then he tried to dance around me, notwithme because I wouldn’t let him, but it didn’t matter; that’s all it took for him to, ugh, think I was into him. I tried to report him—I looked for my friend, but ...” Her voice trails off.
“You don’t have to explain. Wasn’t your fault. Hopefully he’s out of here by now.”
Her fists clench. “He got aggressive. Wanna know why?”
I expected more of a damsel in distress, but ... “Tell me.”
She points her index finger as she enunciates her words. “Because God forbid he feel emasculated by a woman’s rejection.”
“May he rot in pantyhose hell. Bastard.”
Her shoulders dip, and she lets out a husky laugh. “Funny. I like you. Oops. I think I called you a pervert earlier. Was that you? Yep, it was. I remember that mask. Sorry. I’d been avoiding him; then I bumped into you and spilled my tequila ...” Her lush lips form a pout.
I guide her back to the bar. “There’s plenty of tequila here. Let me get you one.”
She says she’s warm and takes off my jacket and hands it back to me with a murmured “Thank you,” then eases down on her stool, placing her hands firmly on the bar. “First, water. A full glass every hour is the rule.”
“Bad hangovers, huh?”
“Migraines. Big. Huge.”
I settle into my seat and order us both waters from the bartender.
“It’s going to leave a bruise,” I say, my hands flexing as I stare at her shoulder.
She brushes at the fingerprints, then shrugs. “I’ve seen worse. You, my friend, were awesome. Strong. Fierce. And I’m not saying that because I might be a tiny bit drunk. Thank you so much—you’re, like, really muscled and hot. Oops, I didn’t mean to say that. By the way, if you saw me crying before, don’t tell anyone. I don’t cry. I really don’t. Yes, my eyesleaked, but it was allergies.” She glances back at the dance floor and frowns. “Dammit. That’s a lie. I did cry. The stupid DJ just had to go and play ‘All of Me.’”
“Let me guess. Wedding song you’d picked out for the big day?”
She turns to me, her rosebud mouth parting like petals unfurling. Her cheekbones are high, her raven hair thick and heavy as it falls tothe small of her back. There’s a perfect widow’s peak in the center of her hairline, creating a face that’s heart shaped.
“How did you know?”
“You’re in a real wedding dress, and your, um, eyes leaked. Something ended your engagement? Today was your wedding date? Am I close?”
“It sucks that I’m that predictable. Yes, today’s the day.” She weaves a little on her seat, and I slowly ease her back.
“I’ve got you.”
“Thanks.” A long exhalation comes from her chest as she toys with a gold locket around her neck. My brow furrows as I gaze at it. The thick chain, the square design, the bird etching on the front. There’s something familiar—
“Let’s forget about my cheating ex,” she declares, stopping my train of thought. “Youslayed the pantyhose dragon. You’re my knight in shining armor.” She reads my name tag, then waves her hands around in the air and claps her palms together horizontally. “We need a redo. Take two: when Princess Bride meets Prince Player. A naughty nighttime story about a masquerade ball. Ready?”
I laugh. “Sure.”
She cups her chin with her hand and smiles. “Hi, handsome. Nice mask. Love the feathers. Suits you. You come here often?”
“My first time, I’m a guest, and my friends chose the mask.” I stick my hand out, and her small one takes mine gingerly, a hum going down my spine as our fingers graze. “Nice to meet you. So what do you do, Princess Bride?”
“Um, I wanted this night to be anonymous, so ...”
A girl after my own heart. “I shouldn’t have even asked. We can guess about each other,” I offer. “We don’t have to confirm if it’s true, and it might be fun. Wanna play?”