Flushed, and cursing myself an idiot for putting on a display, I yank the stem from the cherry and eat the fruit with briskefficiency before taking a hasty sip of my cocktail. “So, Dex,” I say quickly—as if I didn’t just try to call attention tomy mouth. “It’s been a while.”
He blinks, his gaze dragging from my lips to my eyes. “Ethan.”
“What?”
“My name,” he says. “It’s Ethan.” The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Ethan Dexter.”
“Ah.” I take another sip. “So I’m not allowed to call you Dex? That only apply to friends or something?”
He doesn’t laugh or fidget, just keeps his gaze steady on my face. “Didn’t mean it as an insult. You can call me Dex, if you like.”
Before I can ask him why he’d insisted on Ethan if that’s the case, he speaks again. “I haven’t seen you since the wedding.”
Gray and Ivy’s wedding. Nowthatwas a drunken blur. Good times.
Truly, I don’t drink often. But when I do... Ahem. Which is why I try to avoid reaching the point of maximum craziness.
Memories of the wedding are a strain, but hazy edges of them remind me that I danced with Gray’s boys—Dex included. Ivy dancedtoo, which is always a show. My sister, who I love more than anyone on Earth, is a horrible, scary dancer. So mainly I’d concentratedon helping Gray run interference, making sure she didn’t accidentally clock anyone on the head while she convulsed—danced.
“I remember you mostly holding one of the walls up all night,” I tell Dex now.
He’d danced a few songs, sure, then had taken a bottled water and leaned against the wall to watch the rest of us.
He grips his current bottled water. It’s too dark to see what his tattoos are, but I can tell they’re colorful, vintage-looking.And he has more of them than he did a year ago.
“Sometimes it’s more fun to watch.” His gaze doesn’t move from my face, but it feels like it does. My breasts swell heavyagainst my bra, more so when he continues. “You ripped your dress off and flung it in a tree.”
A flush works over my cheeks. It was a tropical resort. And I’d wanted to swim.
Everyone did. I lean forward. “Are you saying you liked watching me strip, Ethan Dexter?”
His chuckle is a gentle rumble. “I’m saying it was memorable.” He glances down, those long lashes hiding his eyes. “And entertaining.”
“I aim to please.” Crossing one leg over the other, I study him. I’m enjoying myself, which is a surprise because I neverpegged Dex as much of a talker. “What are you doing in San Francisco? I don’t recall you playing for Gray’s team.”
“I have a week off, and so does Gray...” His broad shoulders lift in a shrug. “I thought I’d visit him and Ivy.”
“Wait. What?” A bad thought rises in my head, and I find myself leaning toward him. “You’re staying with them too?”
He nods, wariness creeping over his features.
“Did they send you here to babysit me?” I cannot believe he just happens to be at the same club. Not after both Gray and Ivyhad complained about me going out on my own tonight.
“Yes and no.” Dex takes a long pull of his water. “Yes, they said you were here. Yes, they were worried. But I happen to likethis band, so I thought I’d come listen and say hello in the process.”
“Oh, how convenient,” I drawl, sitting back against the wall.
“Isn’t it?” he agrees in a dry voice.
I snort, the temptation to chuck my cherry stem at him riding high. I don’t think he’ll care if I do. Dex seems too unflappableto be offended by flying fruit bits.
“You don’t have to stay,” I tell him. “You can inform the wardens that you saw me, and I was fine, and be on your way.”
He doesn’t flinch. “I want to sit with you.”
Okay. Right. The big football player wants to listen to moody music all night. Sure.
My expression must be skeptical because he gives me a half smile and hands me his phone. “Check my music selection.”
