I bend to help clean up the mess, drooping my shoulders and muttering incessant apologies all the while.
“Did you hurt your arm? Let me look,” she says as we finally stand. There’s a small red mark on the heel of my hand that scraped down the edge of the table, but it doesn’t hurt too bad.
“Oh, I’m fine,” I reassure her and pull my hand back to my midsection. “I’m so sorry. I lost us the game.”
“It’s okay! Don’t be sorry, we can just put the cups back up and keep going. I think we can beat them,” she says and winks at me.
I half expected her to be angry that I ruined everything. It’s what usually happens when I do that.
“Nah. You lose,” Warren’s voice sounds from behind me as he rounds the table to our side. If I could stop either getting embarrassed or making a fool of myself in front of this man that’d be great.
Blythe whips around and looks at Gage, no doubt looking for someone else to jump to our defense so that Warren and Heston don’t get to extend their notorious winning streak by default.
Gage just shrugs and bends to kiss Blythe on the cheek. “Sorry, baby. That’s a party foul. Game over, house rules.”
I feel so bad and I start to spit out more apologies when I hear Warren’s name being yelled above the crowd at a high-volume shriek.
“Warren! Over here!”
A frantic hand waves above the heads of people surrounding her, but I can’t see her face. But whoever she is, she’s headed right for us and neither Warren nor his friends seem the least bit excited about that fact.
“You’rekiddingme. She’s here again?” Blythe groans.
Gage turns and mumbles a drawn-out “Yikes.”
“Warren!” the shrill voice calls out again.
Without a warning and before I can get a good look at her, a hand wraps around the side of my neck, turning me completely around. I’m stunned as Warren’s face is coming right for me.
When we’re inches apart, he stops his advance and I suck in a sharp breath. Without thinking, I grab each of his arms to regain the balance that I never seem to have around him.
“Sorry,” he whispers, helping to steady me with a tighter grip around my neck.
“What are you doing?” I say back under my breath, mimicking his suddenly hushed voice.
I focus on his blue eyes while he bites his lower lip with a mix of anticipation and urgent desperation.
“My ex,” he looks away toward the crowd and then quickly shifts his gaze back to mine. “Shit. I don’t have time to explain.”
My face turns for just a moment, looking for an explanation. It’s an involuntary response given the confusing current situation.
“Savvy,” he says with a thumb hooked under my chin to bring my focus back to him. “Can I kiss you?”
Miraculously, I swallow the lump in my throat and manage not to make a scene after hearing his wild and spontaneous suggestion.
“Heads up, man,” Gage says from behind us.
Copying his previous motion, Warren looks to the crowd and back to me again, but quicker this time. The inner corners of his eyebrows tip up, waiting for me to either punch him in the gut or agree and close the distance between our lips.
Absolutely not, the angel on my shoulder screams.
Just a little taste, the devil on the other shoulder cackles.
He shifts on his feet, and I realize he’s running out of time to enact this stupid idea. This stupid, stupid, tempting idea.
Then just like the night I met him, I fold. I’m so weak when it comes to him, that it isn’t just my lips that meet his. My entire body leans in to get its fair share of attention too.
8
