ROBBIE WAS RIGHT; party planning is hard.
However, dealing with him has been the hardest part today. We had an arrangement that Joe and Mattie were going to keep him busy all day, while the rest of us waited for everything to be delivered and set up.
It was a perfect plan.
Until Robbie decided he needed to stay home for the delivery of something he’d ordered. Me staying home wasn’t enough, he had to stay home himself.
After Joe, Robbie is the smartest guy I know, which is how I know he 100 percent was doing it to stress us all out. Eventually, he went with the guys and thirty seconds later, the delivery driver pulled up with the tables. The delivery Robbie was supposedly expecting never arrived.
Prick.
Every time I think I know everything there is to know about my friends, we do something like try to turn the house into a casino, and I learn how annoying they all truly are.
The house looks fantastic. I haven’t spared an expense and I don’t regret it one bit. As much as he irritates the hell out of me, Robbie deserves it.
The smartest decision I made was to hire a fully stocked and manned bar. They set up on the decking, outside of the French doors from the kitchen, and it looks amazing. Bobby and Kris had a great time naming the cocktails, and I think when Robbie hears someone order The Jersey Chaser or The Judge Judy, he’s going to be happy.
We’ve all collectively agreed to not explain The Judge Judy’s origin. It’s more fun to let people guess, but the real answer is, when Robbie was in the hospital after his accident, all he watched for weeks was Judge Judy.
Now, when he’s hungover, he lies on the couch in the living room and watches his favorite show. Nobody is allowed to talk during it, and nobody is ever allowed to disagree with her decision.
Henry didn’t realize what was happening when he first moved in with us, and I’m not sure he does now, but he knows to stay quiet like the rest of us.
“We look hot,” JJ praises, looking at each of us in our tuxedos. The guys are due back right before the party starts, so they will have time for a shower and to change into their tuxes. We all wanted to be ready to give the full Vegas effect when Robbie gets back.
“Do you think Sabrina and Anastasia will come?” Henry asks, fiddling with his bow tie.
“I hope so, buddy. Robbie wants Sabrina here and I don’t wanna let him down on his birthday.”
“Nothing to do with you wanting to kiss and make up with Stas, then?” Bobby laughs.
My eyebrow raises. “Since when was she Stas?”
“We’re friends now. Icebreaker shit worked; I like her.”
Oh great.
Luckily, the guys get back, and shortly after, the party is in full swing, which doesn’t give me time to dwell on my friends being so-called friends with Anastasia.
Making this party invite only was one of my smarter ideas. To start with, you would never mutter the words free bar on this campus unless you wanted to be bankrupted.
Second, it meant I could stick Tim, one of the rookies, on the door with a guest list. Now I don’t need to worry about troublemakers getting in and ruining things.
Tim’s success as gatekeeper is heavily reliant on him being next to the front door, so the fact I can see him striding across the den with his clipboard doesn’t give me much hope about security. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Cap. Sorta. Those girls you told me to watch out for arrived. Sabrina Allali and Anastasia Allen.”
Thank God. “Right, what’s the problem?”
“Well, I told them to come find you, like you told me to, an—”
“Spit it out, Tim.”
“Sabrina, well, she told me to tell you if you want to give her orders, you should put her on the goddamn team.”
Oh man. I love that Robbie has found himself a girl who is going to absolutely wrap him around her finger.
“Message received. Where are they now?”
“The bar, Cap.”
Sending Tim back off to his post, I keep an eye on the doors to the backyard while I carry on with my game of poker.
The house is full of people crowding around various game tables, drinking, laughing. I tried hard to make sure nothing looked tacky, even when JJ tried to convince me to hire an Elvis impersonator who can do weddings. Me accidentally ending up married to JJ felt like too much of a risk, so I put my foot down and said no.
I haven’t seen them come back inside and it’s been over an hour. When I finally make my way to the bar, Henry, Robbie, and Jaiden have already beaten me to finding the girls.
“You look very nice today. Not at all like a baby giraffe,” I hear Henry saying to Stassie as I approach the five of them. JJ begins to choke on his drink, but she doesn’t seem to mind being compared to a giant, wobbly animal.
“Do you feel better now you can’t spoil the surprise?” she asks, eyes flicking over to me as I stop beside him, then back to Henry. I feel like everyone, except Robbie, knows how worried Henry has been and has been rooting for him.
“I feel much better, thank you.”
Now I’m up close I can see how fucking breathtaking she looks. Hair in perfect curls down her back, silk navy-blue dress cut low at the front and back, with a split all the way up to the top of her thigh. But above all else, she’s grinning ear to ear. Happiness is practically radiating off her as she chats away with my friends.
I can’t help but watch her with a goofy smile on my face, and I know she must notice it because every now and again her eyes float over to me, but I’m too scared to say anything and ruin this moment.
Looking at her makes me want to be the funniest guy in the room, so I can be the one to make her laugh. But I’m going to have to settle for her not scowling at me for now.
This whole thing was about getting Sabrina here for Robbie, and I’ve achieved it. She’s pulled up a chair beside him and they’re whispering away together, in their own little world. I’m happy for him, albeit a little jealous.
Anastasia rubs her hands up and down her arms, and I quickly realize for someone wearing not that much, it’s cold out here. “Here,” I say, shrugging off my tuxedo jacket. “Take this.”
Her mouth opens and I recognize that look; I have a fight coming my way. But to my surprise she closes it, accepting my offer. She drapes it over her shoulders and tightens it across her front. “Thank you, Nathan.”
“Let’s get a drink, Hen,” JJ says, patting him on the back.
“But I have a drink and so do you.”
JJ sighs, dragging Henry toward the nearest server, muttering something about discretion.
I’ve never been nervous to talk to a woman before. I know I need to try hard with Anastasia if we’re ever going to be friends. I can’t stomach the next few weeks, or months, with the weird tension between us. Especially now all my teammates are making progress with her.
Plus, she said I’m on probation so I’ve got to try something.
“You look beautiful.” Weak start, Hawkins. “Are you having a good time?”
“Yeah, I am. It’s a shame you had to be the one to throw it. Having to give you credit is my only criticism.”
Her words seem harsher than they actually are. They’re defiant, but what they don’t show is the way her eyes are fucking gleaming, and the way her teeth sink into her lip while she waits for me to respond.
God bless, Patrón.
“I thought we had a truce. I’m on probation, you’re supposed to be being nice.” I chuckle, watching her try not to laugh.
“This is me being nice!”
“This is your version of nice? You fucking suck at it, Allen.”
“I said you were on probation, not me.”
I tut playfully. “I’m going to teach you how to be nice.”
“I’m sure there are plenty of things you can teach me, Nathan, but being nice isn’t one of them. I’m a delight.”
“Mhm. I think delight might be a stretch.” She smiles. A real one that lightens up her whole face, and I finally feel like I’m getting somewhere. “What things would you like me to teach you?”
She nods toward the house. “How about we start with poker?”
Before I can respond, Henry reappears, now carrying a drink in each hand. “I’m up for poker.”
“Great.” I force a smile, trying not to outwardly grimace at the interruption. “Let’s set up a table.”
Everyone settles around a table in the den, and cards are dealt. In record time, it takes roughly twenty minutes for the birthday boy to ditch us, not alone, obviously.
I’m grateful because it means he misses Anastasia hustling me out of two-hundred bucks. Teach her how to play poker, my ass. I’ll add actress to her list of skills because I truly believed she’d never played before. She called the club a clover, for fuck’s sake; she was very convincing. Well, up until she put down her cards and wiped the floor with me.
“Where are you going?” I ask Stassie as she stands from the table.
“To use the bathroom, I’ll be back.”
Standing, too, I give my chips to Bobby. “The line will be huge. You can use mine, come on.”
She accepts my outstretched hand without hesitation, and this all feels familiar. I’m hoping this night ends with us being friends though, instead of how it ended a few weeks ago.
Apparently, I didn’t learn my lesson last time and now I have Anastasia’s ass in my face again as we walk up the stairs. The stilettos she’s somehow managing to walk in are huge, so she navigated my hands to the curve of her waist to help her get up the steps safely.
The silk of her dress is soft under my fingers, her body warm. Every step she takes, her hair swishes in front of me and the strong honey and strawberry smell of her shampoo invades my nose.
There are worse problems to have.
Reaching my room finally, I punch in the code and usher her through the door. In a way, it’s nice to have her alone to hopefully talk with her. The guys are like golden retriever puppies, all fighting for her attention.
It must get exhausting for her. It’s exhausting to watch, plus it fucking sucks for me because I’m definitely runt of the litter as far as she’s concerned.
Stopping in her tracks when she exits the bathroom and spots me sitting on the bed, her hands go to her hips. “I wasn’t going to snoop.”
“I thought you might want some peace and quiet from your fans.”
Her shoulders drop, her body relaxing. “I like them all, but social settings sometimes drain me.”
“I get it. They’re a lot, you get used to it though, and if you don’t, I can always help you escape them.”
“What if I’m trying to escape you?”
“You definitely don’t need my help. You’re on, like, expert level now or something.”
She laughs and, my God, that noise. I’ve never enjoyed making someone laugh the way I do her. It’s because she makes me work for every laugh and smile, the competitive side of me buzzes when I manage it. Taking a seat at my desk, she tells me about shows she did when she was younger, and how draining it was being surrounded by hundreds of other overexcited kids.
I sit and listen to her, nodding and laughing, freaking mesmerized at her confidence and her commitment, how she views things and explains them.
When she’s done, even she looks like she doesn’t know where that came from. She concentrates on the contents of my desk, prodding at a textbook about God knows what.
“I don’t mind if you snoop, y’know. You didn’t check everything last time.”
“I don’t need to snoop. I know everything I need to know about you.”
I can’t stop the sigh that escapes me when she stands from her seat and walks toward the bedroom door. Her hand reaches for the handle, and I instinctively lean forward, gripping her arm lightly.
Spinning to face me, her back presses into the door. “Are you ever going to forgive me?”
“I told you, you’re on probation.”
Raking a hand through my hair, the groan that slips out is pure frustration. “That isn’t a yes. Do I need to get on my knees and beg you, Anastasia? Is that what you want?”
She shakes her head and laughs. “The only time I ever want to see a grown man on his knees in front of me, Nate, is when his face is between my legs. So no, I don’t want you to beg me.”
Oh fuck.
Standing from the bed, I immediately watch her change. Her breathing deepens, thighs squeeze together, tongue pokes out to wet her lips. I can’t help but smirk because I’ve just realized the attraction might not be as one-sided as I thought it was.
“You don’t hate me like you pretend you do, do you? If you want me on my knees, Anastasia, we can make that happen.”
My hands press against the door on either side of her head; I lean down so we’re eye level, her ocean-blue eyes now dark. By the way she gulps, I suspect if I pressed my mouth to her neck, I’d feel her pulse hammering erratically against my lips.
“I’m not pretending.”
“You are.” Watching her fight herself is the hottest thing, even if she sticks to her guns, I’ll be leaving this room a happy man. Leaning forward, I let my mouth linger near the shell of her ear, my breath tickling her neck. “Ask me nicely. Let me show you how much I like it when you’re nice.”
“Why would I do that when I don’t like you?” Her words are strong, but her delivery is strained and wispy, giving her away.
“You don’t have to like me to scream my name, Anastasia.”
I lightly trace her jawline with my nose, enjoying the way her breathing hitches.
“I could give you a map to my G-spot, and you still wouldn’t be able to get me off, Hawkins.”
“I don’t need a map.”
“You do.”
My mouth is millimeters from hers and I’m not going to be the one to make the first move. I don’t need to be; if she wants me, she’s about to show me.
The idea I’d need a map to get her off is laughable, her thinking I wouldn’t spend every moment learning her body better than my own is also laughable.
The thing I like about her is she’s competitive, but I’m competitive too; I always have been. It’s how I’ve gotten so good at winning, and right now, we’re competing to see who can hold out the longest.
Lowering my voice to a whisper, I give her one last chance. “Let’s test that theory, shall we?”
