It's hard to be me when I'm dressed like someone else. I really need to buy new clothes. Since my divorce, I've lost a good deal of weight, and now all of my clothes are too big—as Mr. Jerk Face pointed out.
“I met Tria a while back, and she sort of introduced me around. I don't really know their men very well, but I know the girls.”
I look around just as the music dies down, and the band takes the stage once again. The lead singer is young, but incredibly sexy.
“Too young for you,” Rye says, drawing my attention.
He motions toward the stage with his beer to let me know what he's talking about. One look at the guy all the girls are screaming over, and I laugh.
“I realize that, but I'm not exactly old.” Even though I feel forty. Then I turn to face him better.
“You don't have to hang out with me. You had no idea your date was going to be the troll across the road. Go have fun. I'm about to sneak out.”
Just as I drink down my last few sips, he tugs my elbow.
“Nope. You're not going to go play Ms. Hermit. You're staying because Ash will think I said something to piss you off.”
Great. He thinks I'm a hermit. He'd be horrified if I told him my favorite part of the day has become our pranks.
“Don't be nice. It makes me feel pathetic.”
He laughs as he drops his arm over my shoulders.
“It's a temporary truce. You loaned me your shower; now I'm making you have fun. Besides, you made me eat alone after you promised you'd have dinner with me.”
I would have killed for one of those burgers, but the second the lights came on, I stood there feeling awkward, and he said nothing. I just excused myself to make things more comfortable.
Is he trying to be my friend right now? Or is he just being friendly?
I hate my life.
“Rye Clanton,” a girl purrs from somewhere close by.
I turn to see her just as her chest is jutted in my face. She has a good five inches on me, making her at least 5'8.
Rye grins while facing her as well, his eyes flicking down to her chest to see her very exposed cleavage. She's got me beat there, too. I'm lucky to fill out a handful. As if she needs anymore perfection, her hair is as long and shiny blonde as it can be.
I hate her already.
“Cassandra,” he drawls, running his eyes over her body.
I almost gag. I so don't have to be here for this.
I start to walk away when she scoffs, “It's Cassie.”
That makes me stifle a smile. He's about to get a drink thrown in his face. Just to watch the show, I turn back around.
“I thought Cassie was just short for Cassandra,” he says, recovering from his slip as though it's effortless.
This time I do gag.
She looks at me, appraising me with a skeptical eye.
“And your friend?” she asks, obviously convinced I'm not his type.
Damn. I thought I looked pretty good in this dress. I may not meet supermodel status, but I look better than usual. I just wish it was in my comfort zone.
“This is Brin,” he says, pulling me back to him. “She's my date for the night.”
Yeah... I'm as shocked as she is that he just said that. Her eyebrows are trying to hit her hairline right now.
“Didn't know you were seeing anyone,” she says dryly.
“First date. I should get going. I'll catch up with you another time.” He puts his arm back around my shoulders and guides me toward the rest of the group.
“You didn't have to do that. I repeat: I'm not really your date.”
“Stop saying that,” he scolds lightly. “Tonight I'm your date. And despite what you might think, I don't ditch my date to hit on other girls.”
My eyes move to his lips, and I stare for a fraction of a second too long. “Let's dance,” he says, smiling down at me.
Since I love dancing, I don’t hesitate. I may not can wow a stage with my graceful finesse, but that doesn’t matter here. In a club like this, dancing is just sex with clothes on, and I can handle that.
***
RYE
Cassandra... Er, Cassie looked ripe for the picking, but Brin would have taken it personally. The girl needs to have fun and enjoy life. I wonder if she ever dates.
I should kick Wren's ass for bailing on her and not giving her a reason.
We make our way to the center of the floor, and I pull her to me as I start to move. She doesn't hesitate to grind her hips against me, and it shocks the fuck out of me. Christ, she can move that body. There's nothing sweet about her right now.
When she turns and presses her ass into me, I might groan. A little. I wasn't expecting my feisty, cute little neighbor who dresses in clothes too big for her, and tortures the hell out of me to be grinding on my cock right now. I certainly wasn't expecting to be hard as a damn rock.
She pushes against me and stretches her arm up, wrapping her soft hand around the back of my neck as our bodies writhe together. There’s no doubt that she feels what she’s doing to me, and I’m starting to worry there’s a prank in here somewhere.