“I shouldn’t,” I say, shaking my head.
“Go ahead,” Derek tells me. “Have fun.”
“You know I do stupid things when I drink,” I mutter at him.
“Like me,” he says, smirking. “You’re already going to do me tonight whether you drink or not, so you might as well.”
“Derek,” I mutter, flushing.
“He’s so bad,” Pam says, laughing.
She doesn’t even know. “He really, really is.”
“Come get a margarita,” Joanna insists, turning and heading back to the garage.
I don’t know why it doesn’t occur to me that following the women means I’ll be separated from Derek, but that’s what happens. I almost tell them never mind so I can follow him. When I’m out of my element like this, I don’t want to be off on my own with the women. Derek is the one who forced me to come to this—he should be keeping me company the whole time, dammit.
“So, Nikki, how long have you and Derek been a thing?” Pam asks congenially.
Oh, my God, that’s the first question? Is the next one about marriage and babies?
“Pam, give the poor girl a minute to get comfortable before you start interrogating her,” Joanna says, slowing down to walk next to me. “Don’t mind her. She’s aggressively friendly, and sometimes that just comes off as aggressive. I love your beach bag,” she says, looking down at it. “So cute. Tommy and I are taking the boys to the beach for family vacation later this month, I should get one of these. Does it have pockets?”
I’m already so uncomfortable I want to flee, so if she wants to talk about a beach bag, I am more than happy to do that.
The next few minutes pass by like hours. My insides itch, standing in this crowd of women I don’t know. Talking to strangers for work I can do, no problem. Socializing with people is another story entirely. After we arrive, another girl I went to school with shows up—Courtney, one of Steph and Kayla’s friends. She has a bearded man and a toddler girl on her hip.
Will Stephanie be here? Derek would have prepared me for that, right?
Just being around these people I know were Kayla’s friends makes it impossible to fit in with them. Since they’ve all been friends since high school, I bet Derek and Kayla used to hang out with them the way we are today. I’m probably here in her place, and a much less fun replacement. I never liked Kayla, but she sure was a social butterfly.
I down the margarita in record time. My brain tells me to slow down, but my nerves tell me to keep going. Joanna seems nice. She’s a nurse, and apparently Tommy works construction with Derek now. She sticks by my side and talks to me, trying to make me more comfortable. I do remember her from school. I can’t remember what crowd she hung out with then, but not theirs. Tommy was one of Derek’s friends though, so I guess when they got together she was merged in.
He has all the same friends. How is that even possible? It has been six whole years, and the guys he’s laughing with right now are the same assholes he hung out with back then. Who keeps all of their friends for that length of time? It’s unfathomable to me. I don’t even know how one juggles that many friends in the first place, but to keep them all?
When I finish my first margarita, I grab a second. My nerves are a little calmer, but I don’t know if it’s from the margarita, or Joanna kindly talking me through my social awkwardness.
Mallory has disappeared. She started talking to everyone but me when she came back from playing with Cassidy, but now I realize she’s missing. I hate that I’m keeping an eye on her, but I am. I remember this feeling keenly, and boy, did I not miss it at all.
Sure enough, when I find her in the yard, she’s standing over by the guys, lingering near Derek. Narrowing my eyes, I push up off the patio chair next to Joanna. I grab my margarita, take a drink, and head over there myself. I have no plan, no idea why, and my brain tells me it’s stupid, but I want her away from him. I want to throw her face-first into the kiddie pool.
Ryan spots me first. Unsubtly, he reaches over and smacks Derek on the arm, then lifts his head in my direction. Oh, he needs a warning that I’m coming? Nice. Really nice. I hate men.
Derek glances over at me. An easy smile transforms his face and he pats the tops of his thighs. “Get over here, you.”
If not for Mallory standing here, I would probably decline. Since she is, I sit on his lap and sink back into his embrace, wrapping my free arm around his neck and kissing him. When I break away, he kisses the tip of my nose and keeps holding me close. “Enjoying that margarita?” he asks, lightly amused.
“It’s pretty yummy,” I tell him.
“Better than mine?” Ryan asks, good-naturedly.
Finding a nugget of charm I didn’t think I had, I assure him, “Of course not, Ryan. No one makes margaritas better than you.”
Ryan laughs, approving of my ego stroke. “That’s right. I like this one, Derek.”
“Me too,” Derek says, winking at me.
As if interrupting us is a physical need, Mallory bursts out with, “Are you guys coming to the 4th of July bash together?”