“Hi, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Maritza, Melrose’s favorite cousin.” A dark-haired girl who looks like she could be Melrose’s sister sidles up beside me.
“Favorite cousin? Try only.” Melrose winks, taking a sip of her Moscow Mule. “Oh, hey! Aerin just got here. I’ll be right back.”
Melrose dashes across the bar, flagging down one of her friends and leaving me with the woman who looks like she’s about to aim and fire a thousand questions at me.
“So how long have you had a thing for my cousin?” Maritza asks as I take a sip of my beer.
I almost choke on my drink. “Excuse me?”
“How long have you liked her?”
“No idea what you’re talking about.” I take another sip and scan the area.
Earlier tonight, I’d barely had a chance to wrap my head around the fact that she’s going to be moving out in two weeks to go shoot a movie when Nick stole the show with his perfect fucking timing.
I watched her smile and listened as she called him “Nicky” and pranced around the room like a schoolgirl gabbing with her best friend.
She’s never like that with me, so giddy and energetic.
Now I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s Nick that she’s holding out for. And I’m ninety-nine point nine percent sure she’s not going to want to start anything that remotely resembles an exclusive relationship when she’s two weeks out from filming one of the biggest roles of her career.
I’d be a selfish bastard to even ask her to consider it.
I’m happy for Melrose. I am. She deserves this more than anyone.
“Don’t bullshit me,” Maritza says. “Our grandmother taught us how to read people. We know how to study nuances and interpret body language. When you sit by her, your body is angled toward her. When she walks toward you, you take a deep breath. When she walks away, you steal little side glances at her.”
“Those are things everyone does.” I scan the room once more, mentally pleading for someone to come save me from Cousin Maritza.
I met her boyfriend earlier in line outside the men’s room. He seemed cool. Quiet, low-key. Nothing like this chick.
“Deny it all you want, handsome, but you want her,” she says, dark brows lifted as she reaches for her mint julep. “For what it’s worth, I can tell she likes you just as much.”
“What, because she takes a deep breath when I walk toward her?” I chuff.
“No. Because she told me.”
I almost choke on my beer. “When?”
“That weekend at Gram’s banquet. I mean, she didn’t come out and say those exact words … that she liked you … but it was implied.” Maritza waves at someone a few tables down.
“How do you know?”
“Because I know her better than anyone.” She turns back toward me. “For instance, I know when she pushes someone away, it’s because she’s scared. And pushing people away is easier than putting herself out there and being rejected. Girl can take an audition rejection like a champ, but when it comes to her heart, she’s the biggest pansy I know. Plus she has a thing for emotionally unavailable guys. It’s kind of her fatal flaw.”
“You don’t say.”
“What?” she asks, distracted by a text on her phone.
“Nothing.”
“What’re you guys talking about?” Melrose appears out of thin air, leaning against me and hooking her arm over my shoulder to steady her balance.
I’m guessing she’s on her fourth drink since we got here, and she’s going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow if she doesn’t slow down.
“The woman of the hour, duh.” Maritza tips her drink before taking a small sip. “Where’s your drink? You empty? I’m empty.” Turning, she taps on Isaiah’s shoulder and a moment later they get up, heading to the bar.
“You having fun?” I ask a question that clearly answers itself. She hasn’t stopped grinning since we got here, and on anyone else, I’d find that amount of chipperness annoying. On her? It’s actually kind of cute…
Melrose boops me on the nose and starts giggling. I’ve never seen her this shitfaced.
“I have a secret,” she says.
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
She leans in, her breath warm against my ear, and then she says, “I really want to kiss you.”
“And you’re really drunk.”
Maritza and Isaiah return, triple and double fisting tequila shots, and handing them out like candy at a parade to all the people who came out to celebrate. When she hands me one, I wave my hand.
I’d rather keep a clear head and an eye on Melrose.
Maritza nudges Melrose. “Callie and Aubrey just texted and said they were here. Maybe we should go find them?”
The girls run off, and I nurse my beer and make small talk with Isaiah. He seems like an average guy. Humble. Hardworking. Military-type. He has an old Porsche that he restored.
I can appreciate a no-nonsense guy’s guy.