Pretend We're Over (Pretend 2)

Larkyn smiles sweetly. “Have a goodnight, Oaklee. I can’t wait until tomorrow.” She strokes Oaklee’s hair and then is gone.

The rest of the bridal party gets back to doing shots, sloppy dancing, and lap dances. Leaving me alone with Oaklee, who I swear has turned from sobbing to snoring.

“Oaklee?” I ask, trying to unglue her from my shoulder.

“Hmm.” She rocks back.

“What are you drinking? I shou

ld get you another drink. Why don’t you go pull that fiancé of yours onto the dance floor?”

Her eyes light up. “I want another one of those fizzy drinks that light up.”

I smile. “Can do.”

Then I turn to her fiancé, who thankfully is done with the lap dances. “Dance with your fiancé!”

He grins, and I push Oaklee into his arms, while I carry my own drink toward the bar to go buy Oaklee another drink. Not that she needs it, but it gives me something to do until I can leave. I don’t have the excuse of kids like Larkyn and Kade do. As everyone pointed out, I’m single. I’ll be expected to close down the club with the rest of them.

I’m walking toward the bar when I’m ambushed from the side, a swish of hair, makeup, and freckled skin knocks into me, jarring my glass from my hand. Some of it splatters onto my dark jeans, but that’s the thing about not drinking, it’s just water.

I look up, expecting to see a drunk woman wearing nine-inch heels, a heavy cast of makeup, and a tight skirt. What I get is jeans, a black tee with the name of some band I’ve never heard of, and off-white sneakers. Her makeup is tame compared to all the other women here. The only thing I got right was her mane of strawberry blonde hair in thick waves around her face. Her hair isn’t highlighted or cut in professional layers; her hair is as wild as the twinkle in her green eyes. The only thing that tells me she’s part of our party is the sash she’s wearing across her body with the word ‘bridesmaid’ on it.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry,” the woman says. She starts trying to brush off the liquid on my pants with her hand, like that is somehow going to magically soak up the splotches of club soda on my pants.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

She blushes. It’s an adorable shade of pink below her pale, freckled covered cheeks that make her look like she’s about fifteen. But one glance below her adorable cheeks tells me she’s all woman. Even though she’s wearing an oversized T-shirt and jeans, it doesn’t hide the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips, leaving me watering. She may not be my normal type, but I can appreciate a beautiful woman’s body when I see it.

“Sorry.” She immediately stops trying to dry up the water on my pants and realizes her hand had slipped dangerously close to copping a feel.

Her gaze drops to the shattered glass on the floor. “I’m so sorry. Let me buy you a new drink to make it up to you. I’m not usually a stumbling drunk like this.”

She’s rambling. It’s enchanting, but she’s in the bridal party. Everyone is married in the bridal party, except me, and I don’t flirt with other men’s women.

“No,” I say.

“No? Please, I insist…What’s your name?”

“Sebastian. And you don’t need to buy me a drink. All the drinks are free, courtesy of the bride and groom.”

“Oh, I know, I just meant that I should at least order you another drink and get it for you so that you can keep enjoying whatever you were doing. Another lap dance or whatever or…” Her cheeks blush again as she blinks rapidly like she’s batting her eyes, but I don’t think she realizes she’s doing it. “I’m Millie, by the way. Amelia, actually, but everyone calls me Millie. I’m getting you a drink. I—“

“Millie,” I say, putting my hands on her shoulders, trying to get her to stop rambling. “You really don’t need to get me a drink.”

“No, but I insist. I don’t want you to think of me as the drunk who spilled your drink all over you. What were you drinking?” She looks me up and down and then to the drink on the floor.

“Vodka?” she asks.

“No.”

She scrunches her nose up as she tries again. “Gin?”

“No.”

“What were you drinking then?”

I sigh. I don’t like telling people that I’m not drinking. They never understand why, especially in a setting like this. It’s not that I’m embarrassed to be a recovering alcoholic, but I don’t usually broadcast it.