Josh leans his lips right into my ear. “What’s the over-under on how long it takes Sarah to get him up there?”
Josh’s hand is on my bare thigh, making my skin buzz with every touch of his fingertips. His cologne smells divine. His eyes are a scorching blue. I feel intoxicated, though I’ve barely had a sip of alcohol. I feel drunk on Josh.
“Come on, PG. Give me your prediction.”
“I’m not gonna say an amount of time,” I say. “I’m gonna go with the number of Scotches, instead.”
“Ooh, good call. How many?”
“Two more tops, and then he’s gonna be singing like a tone-deaf canary.”
“Twoon the outside, huh? That’s pretty ambitious.”
I shrug. “That’s the over-under. So you’re bettingover, then?”
Josh grins broadly and runs his hand up my thigh, right up to the hem of my mini-dress, making my skin erupt in goose bumps. “I’ve learned my lesson, babe. I’ll never bet against you as long as I live. If you say two Scotches is all it’s gonna take to get my brother up there, then that’s what it’ll take.”
The “Living on a Prayer” guy leaves the stage and we’re treated to three adorably silly women launching into a heartfelt rendition of Wilson Phillips’ “Hold On.”
The waitress approaches our table. “Hey, folks,” she says. “Another round?”
Josh looks pointedly at everyone, gathering drink orders, and I shake my head, signaling I’m good. For some strange reason, alcohol just isn’t hitting the spot tonight.
But Josh doesn’t seem to understand my headshake. “Yeah, sure,” Josh says absently to the waitress. “Another round. Plus Patron shots for everyone, too, please. With limes.”
“And a club soda,” I add. “Please.”
“And a couple bottles of champagne, too,” Jonas adds. “We’re celebrating tonight.”
“Oh yeah?” the waitress asks. “What are we celebrating?”
“Oh, just, you know,” Jonas says, pulling Sarah into him, his face bursting with pure happiness. “Life.”
Oh, jeez, those two. I’ve never seen two people more madly in love. I wish so badly I could watch Jonas pop the question to Sarah next week in Greece. I’d bet dollars to doughnuts she’s gonna lose functionality in all four limbs and flop on the ground like a freshly caught trout.
The waitress leaves and Josh leans back in his chair, adjusting his dick in his pants. God, he’s a sexy dude. Gotta love a man in a designer suit whose dick is so big, it won’t fit comfortably inside his pants.
“Well, Jonas might be celebratinglife,” Josh says,“but I’ve actually got a few specific things I’d like to celebrate tonight.” He raises his old-fashioned and the rest of us follow suit, holding up our various drinks. “First,” Josh begins, “I wanna celebrate Hannah officially joining ourOcean’s Elevencrew. Welcome, Hannah. You fit right in.”
“Thank you,” she says, pushing up her glasses.
“We all have our roles to play, Hannah,” Josh continues. “So now that you’re officially part of the crew, I’d like to christen you our cookie-baking Olivia Newton-John.”
Hannah nods. “Wow. Thank you. I accept my role with humble gratitude. What’s everyone else’s roles?”
“Well, he’s the asshole,” Josh says breezily, motioning to Jonas. “And also the comic relief, though hardly ever intentionally.”
Sarah laughs.
“Sarah’s our George Clooney—our fearless leader—and also Jonas’ handler. Without Sarah, Jonas becomes very, very cranky—so I’d like to take this moment to expressly thank Sarah Cruz for coming into my brother’s life. By doing so, you’ve made mine immeasurably better.” Josh beams a huge smile at his brother, and, much to my surprise, Jonas laughs heartily.
“Thank you,” Sarah says, blushing. Jonas kisses her cheek and I swoon.
“Henn’s our fucking genius, of course,” Josh continues. “I’m sure that’s not news to you, Hannah—plus, the guy’s heart has a ten-terabyte storage capacity.” He flashes Henn an adoring look.
“Yes, I’m well aware of that,” Hannah says.
The look on Henn’s face is priceless. Oh my effing God. He’s adorable.
