Love and Sorrow (Small Town Secrets Book 5), стр. 28
“Thanks. I wanted to share the good news with my best friend.”
I grinned at him and then preoccupied myself with the leaves of salad on my plate as I pondered his words. I’d considered Justin a close friend, too—but did he really consider me his best friend? Of all his other buddies, all the people he spent time with? Had I not been falling hard for this man, I would have felt honored.
And I had to let that shit go. Just because Justin and I had clicked from the start didn’t mean he belonged to me.
“Do you really feel that way? That I’m your best friend?”
“Would I ever shine you on?”
“No. I guess not. And thanks for sharing your news with me.” Especially since it seemed like I was always the downer in our relationship. Now, knowing tonight was his night, I was going to let him lead the remainder of our date.
He spent the rest of the meal telling me his plans for the future. Eventually he wanted to open his own shop, and I was amazed at the business plans already in his head. In a few years, he planned to go back to school and take some business courses so he’d understand how to run the paperwork side, but he figured five years would be plenty of time to earn a good reputation as a trustworthy, respectable mechanic, save enough money to start his own business, and get an MBA.
How had I never seen the ambition in this man before? It made him sexier. And as I listened to him tell me his plans, his eyes aflame with excitement, I drank in every detail, because I never grew tired of him.
When we were getting ready to leave the restaurant, I caught the waiter eyeing my bare legs—and then I caught Justin’s almost possessive expression. If I hadn’t been glad I’d accepted his invitation before, I was now. Even if I went home at this point, I’d be able to say I’d had a lovely evening.
Little did I know, my night was just getting started.
Chapter Ten
My head was floaty and I couldn’t stop giggling as I nursed my third and probably last margarita of the evening. I wasn’t sure when, but at some point the alcohol had not only helped me relax, it was moving me from feeling chilled out into drunkenness. I was shouting to be heard over the music and my teeth were starting to have that weird numb feeling they got when I’d had too much to drink. A nice side effect, though, was that my shoulders and neck weren’t tense.
I was feeling goooood.
“Hey, baby doll. You promised me a dance. Let’s go.” Lady Gaga’s voice was filling up the cavernous space as Justin eased me off the stool.
We’d been at the bar for a while. Justin had been talking with the bartender—a woman with large breasts barely held back by her strained white tank top, and I was pretty sure the woman wasn’t even wearing a bra—not that it was any of my business. And they were so fucking perfect—so round, so perky—that I comforted myself by believing they were probably fake. If they helped her get more tips, could she use the augmentation surgery as a tax deduction?
Feeling annoyed when Justin started shooting the shit with her, I turned my head to start a conversation with the man on my other side. He appeared to be a college student, but the traditional type, meaning he was not only younger than me but even younger than Justin—by quite a bit. If he was barely a day over twenty-one, I wouldn’t be surprised—but I didn’t mind, either. He was cute, and talking to him beat listening to Justin’s conversation about the football season with the buxom woman serving our drinks a bit too attentively.
The young man—Josh?—started getting friendlier. The two buddies he’d arrived with had gone elsewhere and, thanks to my background in tending bar, I knew the right questions to ask and the correct responses to give a man—one of any age—to boost his ego, make him feel more manly, and I must have been doing quite well, even in my inebriated state. It wasn’t long before he got closer, casually draping his arm across the back of the stool before bringing his lips close to my ear.
That was when Justin stepped in, reminding me we’d come here to dance. I promised Josh or whatever his name was that I’d be back.
As we made our way to the dance floor, I heard a voice. “Justin Anderson, is that you?”
When he turned, so did I, as a pretty brown-haired woman approached us. “Nicki Sosebee. How the hell are ya?”
“I’m great!”
“This is my friend, Randi Miller.”
“Nice to meet you. I didn’t think this club was gonna make it in Winchester, but every time I come here, it’s packed.”
Feeling like a comedienne, I said, “Well, it’s either here or Walmart, right?”
At least she justified my dumb joke with a laugh. “If you guys stick around, I’m sure I’ll see you later.”
I told her it was nice to meet her, but, as Justin finished leading me to the middle of the floor, jealousy seethed in my gut. First the bartender and then that Nicki girl. What the hell? I had always known Justin was a player, but I didn’t need it in my face all the fucking time. Especially when the night was supposed to be all about me.
God, I’d had way too much to drink.
Pulling me close, Justin asked, “By the way, what the fuck was that back at the bar?”
“What was what?”
“That kid you were hitting on.”
“I was not. I wasn’t hitting on him. Flirting, maybe.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, why don’t you tell me about Betty Boobs the bartender, and then we’ll call it even.”
He chuckled. “Touché.”
As we started swaying, I was able to better sense the effects of the alcohol—but at least I felt loose and free. The music