"Of course you slackers arrive after all the work's done." I bump shoulders with Tripp. He grins, fully aware of his timing.
"Are you ready?" Griff asks Carys, running his hand through his hair. She nods.
"Where are you going?" Ry and I ask at the same time.
Carys looks between the two of us. Her brows knit, lips pursed in frustration or something close to it.
"None of your business," she responds, as Griffin says at the same time, "We're going for pizza, want to come?"
"No," Carys states emphatically.
We eye her like she's slapped us.
Her outburst makes it crystal clear: we're not welcome. She's never excluded us before. I catch her eyes surreptitiously glance at Stacie, her upper lip curling into a snarl. Scratch that-more accurately, she doesn't want me and my companion around.
"Griff, I'd love to, I'm starving. Who's in for pizza?" Ry says, taunting his sister.
She lowers her eyes to the floor, folding her arms across her chest. There's a resounding chorus of "I am" from all except Carys. Griff moves in closer, cups her chin, and raises it to face him. He examines her face, and my guess is he's apologizing for opening his mouth and inviting us. Also, he's likely wondering why she's acting the way she is.
Subtly shaking her head, she pulls her chin from his hold. Taking his hand in hers, she gives him a small squeeze and a shy smile. It's only meant for him. Things are fine between them. Like I thought, it's me she's got a problem with.
"Hey, Stace." I pull her away from the group. "I'm going to go with these guys. I'll talk to you later."
Each word out of my mouth confirms how much of a dick I am, but I refuse to make Carys uncomfortable. These are her friends, and I won't do something that makes her bow out or hate every minute of it. Fuck, girls are so complicated.
"What? I can't come?" Her disappointment evident.
"These guys made plans and you're not going to crash 'em."
"I'm sure they won't mind if I come. Carys has her friend coming," she protests, eyes on the group, ready to ask them if she can tag along.
"Stace, no. I'll talk to you later." My response is firm.
"Fine," she says, sounding anything but as she leaves without a goodbye.
I don't give her a second thought. If we're done, fine. She's a fun girl and I don't want to hurt her feelings, but she's not my concern.
"Let's go, I could eat a horse." I return to my small group of friends.
With nods and yeses, we head for the door. Purposely staying behind, I nab Carys's belt loop, pulling her to me. Her shoulder bumps my chest and I hook my arm around her neck.
"We good?" I peer into her soulful eyes.
"Yeah." The corners of her mouth turn up and my heart jerks at her dazzling, genuine smile. Finally, one for me. I'll never get enough of her smile.
"Good." I kiss the top of her head.
I draw her closer and her arm snakes around my waist, her hand flat on my stomach. A feeling akin to electricity jolts through my belly, and heat spreads from the warmth of her palm throughout my body. She's right where I want her to be: in my arms.
Now
Carys
I PLACE THE LAST glass on the shelf when it hits me, or rather he does. It's that sixth sense, the unmistakable prickling you get when someone's watching you or when you know something's about to happen. He's here, and the adrenaline of being close buzzes through my veins.
Reluctantly, I turn, hoping I'm wrong, while knowing I'm right. Sure enough, Evan's headed straight for me. His long strides quickly eat up the distance between us.
His body oozes confidence with his relaxed swagger, sexy smirk, and twinkling eyes on me. Low in my belly, there's a vise-like tightening as I fight his undeniable appeal.
Some things never change. He's the type of guy you notice, and several women follow his every move. In his well-worn blue jeans and tight-fitting black t-shirt, every defined muscle and every hard line is panty-melting. Yes, he is that impressive.
Attempting indifference, I nod and head to the far end of the bar, away from him. I drag the wet rag across the bar top I cleaned no more than thirty minutes ago, but he doesn't know that.
Joe and Marty, two of my regulars, stop their chatter to watch me complete my task. They must think I'm wacko.
"Marty, do you want a refill?" I motion to his almost empty beer.
"Sure, honey, I'd love one."
With the intensity of his eyes on me, an uncomfortable warmth ignites within me. "Hey, Sweetness." Evan's deep, smooth voice sends a shiver up my spine as I place Marty's beer on the bar.
"Hey yourself." I'm going for casual, although I'm anything but. I've got a million questions I want to ask, but I won't give in and show him that I care. "What are you doing here?"