Discovering Delilah(39)

I put my mouth beside her ear and whisper, “Paybacks are hell.”

“You guys are too cute together,” Cassidy says. “You look like you want to claw each other’s clothes off, and it’s really hot.”

Holy shit. I bolt upright. “I…No…Really?” I hightail it up to the bar to get the drinks, but not before noticing that Ash has a big, cheesy grin on her face and there’s a curious look on Jesse’s.

“Hey, hon. What’ll it be?”

Tristan leans on the bar, waiting for me to answer him, but my mind is stuck on You guys look like you want to claw each other’s clothes off…That’s exactly how I feel, which means I’m transparent as hell, and that rattles me to my core.

I look up at Tristan, and my mind goes completely blank. I can’t remember what drinks anyone wanted, and Wyatt is still talking with Jesse.

“Um…whatever Cassidy and Ash usually order, I guess. And I need a blue margarita please. Superstrong.”

Tristan raises his brows. “Uh-oh. One of those nights? I was hoping this double date would ease your discomfort with the whole…you know what.”

I climb onto a barstool and lower my voice. “Yeah, well, it turns out that now that I’ve kissed her, apparently I can’t be around her without wanting to kiss her again. And again. And again.”

Tristan laughs.

I try to focus on the song the band is playing, but my eyes keep drifting toward the booth.

Tristan taps my shoulder. “Baby steps, remember? This is a good thing.”

“No. It’s not. Because doing those things here will only make me feel guilty as hell, and then I get all teary-eyed and weird.” I watch him mix our drinks, and when he brings them to me, I down the margarita and get a wicked brain freeze. I close my eyes and wince.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“Slow down, girlie.” Tristan shakes his head.

When the pain eases, I push the glass across the bar to him.

“Better?” he asks.

“A little.” At least now I can hear the music instead of just the battle between want, need, and embarrassment that’s warring in my head.

Tristan takes the glass and makes another. “You’re finally the one making the rules, Delilah.”

I feel Wyatt’s hand land on my shoulder. He leans in close. “You and your girlfriend are getting eyed by every guy in here.”

I drop my head between my shoulders. “Great.”

“It’s a compliment, Dee. You guys look hot.”

“Together? Because Cassidy said we look like we want to rip each other’s clothes off.” I meet Wyatt’s gaze, and he’s got a serious look in his eyes.

“No. Not like that at all. Jesus, Cass said that?” He glances over his shoulder at the table. “I don’t know what she sees, but from my perspective, you’re just two hot girls out having a drink. Don’t sweat it, and don’t worry—I’m giving the evil eye to the gawkers.”

I roll my eyes. He always watches out for me. I wish I could say it’s gotten worse since our parents died, but it hasn’t. This is who Wyatt has always been. He’s almost two full minutes older than me, and he thinks that gives him the title of supreme protector. He’ll probably always be overly protective, and in some ways it’s the best feeling in the world knowing he’ll always stand up for me, but I know it also makes it way too easy for me to let him do it.

We return to the table with the drinks and fall into a conversation about music, bands, and movies. Ashley’s had her hand on my thigh under the table the whole time we’ve been talking, and while it stole my ability to concentrate at first, now it feels familiar and nice. I slip my hand beneath the table and lace my fingers with hers. My eyes dart to the dance floor and the people at the nearby tables, but no one seems to notice, and I’m relieved.

“I almost forgot. This weekend my little brother is going to be in his first lead role in a play.” Ashley squeezes my hand. “I’d love it if you’d come home with me and meet my family, go see his play.”

“Meet your family?” Butterflies flutter in my stomach again.

“Yeah, you’ll love them.”

“Meet your family.”

Wyatt nudges my toe under the table as if to signal that I’m being an idiot, which I am. If we had never kissed, I wouldn’t think twice about accepting the invitation. Now it carries the fear of wondering if her parents will act like mine would if I had brought a girlfriend home.

I want this to work. I want to be with Ashley. I have to try.

“Sure, okay. If you’re sure your family won’t mind.”