He gently pushed her onto the bed. The blanket parted in front, and he focused on her feet. Those slender feet in heels.
“I love you, David Olsen,” Steph said in a soft breathy voice that made him break out in a sweat.
Maybe he could sober her up with coffee. He berated himself for bringing her that vodka when she’d asked. He glanced up at her face. Her eyes were already closing.
“I love you too,” he said in a husky voice.
He pulled off the heels and stroked the top of her feet, feeling guilty about the red marks from the toe-stepping he’d done on the dance floor. She stretched out those long legs and sighed. He bit back a groan.
“I have to tell you about…” She curled up on her side, giving him an eyeful of curvy ass in lace panties. Just kill him now.
He yanked the comforter over her. “About what? Steph?”
She was sound asleep.
It sucked to be a gentleman.
Chapter Two
Steph stepped into her friend Jasmine Davis’s apartment the next day, still battling a headache from a raging hangover, and announced, “I need a divorce.”
Jaz’s mouth dropped open in a perfect O of surprise. She pulled Steph in and settled with her on the black leather sofa. “Back it up. Say what? I didn't know you were married!”
Steph grimaced over Jaz’s volume. “Technically, I am.”
Her friend crinkled her nose. “Does your boyfriend know?”
“You see the problem.”
Jaz’s brown eyes looked huge. “Uh, yeah?”
Jaz was a super-expressive, super-animated person. Maybe not the best choice to confide in on a hangover day, but Amber had already left for a quick honeymoon weekend getaway to Cape May. So that left Jaz. Jaz and Amber were the only two in the world she could trust with this delicate situation.
“So what’s your husband think of your boyfriend and vice versa?” Jaz asked. “I like your berry lipstick, by the way.”
Steph shook her head and instantly regretted the movement. “Thanks. I tried to tell Dave last night, but things got a little hazy after the vodka and the champagne.” And the kissing, she added silently.
Jaz tucked a leg under her. “I told you to slow down on the champagne.”
Steph blinked. She'd been so wrapped up in Dave, she hadn't spent much time with Jaz at the reception. Bare and Amber had invited the entire cast and crew from the Eastman summer community theater where they’d first gotten together. Steph usually played in the chorus, and Jaz was the choreographer. The two women had become closer over this past summer as Jaz transitioned from the grueling routine of constant auditioning and dancing for on- and off-Broadway shows to opening her own dance studio for kids in Clover Park, where she grew up.
“I have no memory of that,” Steph said, rubbing her forehead. “Did you have a good time last night? Meet anyone?”
“I had fun dancing, but ya know, that’s my thing.” She tossed her curly dark brown hair over her shoulder. “Didn’t meet anyone. Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and fixed Steph with an expectant look. “Back to you.”
Her friend was beautiful with smooth café-au-lait skin and a graceful dancer’s body. Jaz claimed she only ever met other dancers and, of those few guys that were straight, she lost interest after a few weeks. Though Jaz had confided once—after too many mojitos while they watched The Notebook—that she’d never been in love. Steph hoped that would change now that Jaz lived close by. Steph would keep an eye out for eligible bachelors.
“How’s the dance studio going so far?” Steph asked. It had opened a month ago.
Jaz smacked her arm. “Girl, don’t tell me you’re married and make small talk. Spill.”
“I need water.” Steph helped herself to a glass of water in the small kitchen.
Jaz was right behind her. “I’ll make green tea. All those antioxidants and just a pinch of caffeine work great for a hangover.” She set the kettle on to boil. “So-oo, how long have we been married?”
“Five years.”
Jaz’s hands flew to her temples, eyes wide in shock. “Five years!”
Steph winced.
Jaz dropped her hands and lowered her voice. “Sorry. Five years? Where is this mystery man?”