She made a beeline, arrived first, and swiftly turned to order another drink. A hand settled low on her back a second later, and she pulled in a shaky breath, knowing it was Tristan. She turned around, finding him standing right behind her. He was clean shaven, smelled like heaven, and her heart picked up speed simply from being close to him again.
“You better leave,” she whispered, “or someone’s going to get suspicious.”
He leaned in close, so close she could feel his breath against her neck. “We just spent four days driving cross country together. If we don’t talk, people will get suspicious.”
Her pulse quickened for the second time, and she couldn’t help the smile that teased at her mouth. “You’re right.” But the alcohol had hit her harder than she thought, and she stumbled forward, requiring Tristan’s hand to catch her at her hip.
She looked up into his eyes, feeling his fingers press into her skin. “I don’t like watching girls hang on your every word. It annoys me.”
He laughed, but glanced her over from head to toe before settling his eyes on her lips. “I don’t like watching you parade around half naked when I can’t touch you.”
She laughed wholeheartedly and resisted the urge to pull him against her. “You noticed.”
His eyes heated, and he looked her up and down again. “I’m pretty sure everyone in this dammed place noticed you.”
She grinned again, moving around him to place her paper on his back. “Name please?”
His muscles tightened, and he reached around to grip her upper thigh to yank her forward. “You should know it. You were screaming it last night,” he whispered.
She bit her bottom lip. “And how do you know the bride?”
“What bride?”
She turned around to offer him her back, and instantly felt his fingers trail down the column of her spine. “What do you say we get out of here?”
She pulled in a breath, wanting nothing more, but turned around to take his paper and place it on the bar.
He frowned. “I guess that’s a no?”
She took another sip of her martini and filled out the paper. “Later,” she promised.
He leaned in close to her ear, his perfectly shaved cheek like silk against her skin. “Later.”
And then he was gone.
The game passed by in a rush. By the end of it, the agenda had been completed. Everyone was laughing and talking, and much looser than before. Samantha stood at a cocktail table by the dance floor, deliberately selecting the spot because she had a perfect view of Tristan. He was still surrounded by women, but for some reason she didn’t mind as much now. He was hers, and she knew he’d come to her the moment she curved her finger.
Mark came to stand beside her then, holding a beer in one hand, and martini in the other. “You look thirsty,” he stated, placing her drink in the middle of the table. “Are you still trying to pretend not to care about that blond dude over in the corner?”
She pulled in a breath, shaking her head, and turned to face him “I don’t know whatever you mean—”
But he winked at her, interrupting her words. He took a swig of his beer. “Samantha, your secret’s safe with me. But I find it hilarious you think no one notices.”
She bit her lip and glanced over at Mark. “Is it that obvious?”
He took another swig of beer before answering. “Yeah…it kinda is. Though don’t worry, most people are too drunk to notice—plus, they’re not as perceptive as I am.” He then stepped closer, hunching down to whisper in her ear. “But my question is this, if he could have you, why is he making out with that brunette over there?”
Samantha whipped around, her eyes finding Tristan immediately, standing in the same spot she’d left him, with a blond woman by his side. But his eyes were narrowed and focused on Samantha.
She hit Mark’s arm and shook her head. “You’re trying to make him jealous.”
Mark laughed. “Or make him realize what he’s missing. There are two sides to every coin.”
“True,” she agreed, as a deep voice broke through the music again.
Phin was up on the stage this time, his arm around Renee, and the microphone in his hand. “Now that you’ve had a chance to get to know one another, we have another game.”
The crowd erupted with laughter, and he held his finger to his mouth to shush them. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Renee and I met at the Hamilton Ballet. We’ve since moved in other directions, but the company will forever have a special place in our hearts.”
Mumbles began coursing through the crowd, and Phin motioned with his hands for them to settle down. “We’re going to play a game,” he said again. “One we learned not too long ago in an improv class and we’d like you to join us. There are only two rules.” He grinned. “One, you have to have a partner; and Two, never stop touching.”