Only One Touch (Only One 4)

“No,” she says, leaning forward. Her jacket opens just a bit, and even though about fifty people are here, my eyes are only on hers. It feels as if we are the only ones in the room. “I have a strict two-drink maximum.”

I cock my head to the side. “Really?” I lean forward. “Is there a reason?”

“Well, besides the fact that no good choices are made when one drinks?” She smiles and winks at me, and I can only imagine what bad decisions she’s talking about. But I know one thing—I will be finding out exactly how bad these decisions are.

Chapter 5

Becca

“Well, besides the fact that no good choices are made when one drinks?” I smile at him, which I’m doing a lot tonight, then I wink at him. Holy shit, am I flirting with him? Wait a second, why am I flirting with him? What is going on right now?

“You’ve got to give me something better than that,” he says, and I look at him. I mean, really look at him, and it’s like I’m seeing him for the first time. His brown hair is long on top and short on the sides and the back, and it looks like it took him two seconds to run his fingers through it. His blue eyes get a bit lighter when he laughs, almost like the amber of cognac. When he leans forward on the table, his biceps flex under his blue sweater.

“Ugh.” I throw my head back. “Why?”

“Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you make one bad decision since we’ve been in business with each other.” I tilt my head to the side, looking over at Miller and Layla, who are holding hands across the table. Ralph has pulled Candace onto his lap and is whispering something in her ear. “So tell me,” Nico says, and I turn my attention back to him. “Give me one example.”

“Oh, God.” I think about it for a second. “But if you ever throw this in my face, I will …” I point at him, and he holds up his hands and crosses it over his chest.

“Scout’s honor,” he says, smirking.

“You were never a scout, Nico.” I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. “Fine. Four months ago, I went to a Celine Dion concert,” I tell him, and I can see his eyes change color to a soft blue. “I had a couple more vodka drinks than I should have, and well …” I put my head down. “I can’t show anyone the videos because all you hear is my screaming and singing in the background.”

He laughs, clapping his hands together. “I would never peg you for a Celine fan.”

“Yeah, well, I wish that was the worst of it,” I say, and I suddenly wish I didn’t have a two-drink limit that I stick by, especially at a work function. It’s one thing to enjoy a bottle of wine at home on my couch, but it’s another thing to do it in front of my clients. “The next morning, I woke up …” I lean forward, and I see his eyes go back to a darker blue. “Naked. Next to me was a black baseball cap with diamonds all over it with the word BOSS across it.” He rolls his lips to stop from laughing. “I even have a picture,” I say, grabbing my phone and opening up my photos to search for it. I find it on my Instagram and show it to him.

He takes my phone from me, and our fingers graze each other. And just like before when he put his hand on mine, a shiver goes up my spine. He looks at the picture, and he zooms in. “That hat is very …”

“Shiny?” I say. “Bright?”

“You ever try to wear this hat out in the sun?” he asks, and I shake my head and laugh.

“They should not allow you to buy merchandise after the show.” I point at him. “Especially if you buy more than one thing.”

“What else did you buy?” he asks.

“A T-shirt, mug, calendar, a sweater, and a poster,” I say, and he is trying so hard not to laugh. “It’s not funny.”

“I’m just wondering where you hung the poster. Is it in your bedroom or office?” he asks, and I flip him the bird. I see him doing a couple of things with his fingers.

“What are you doing?” I ask, and he hands me back my phone.

“I followed myself on Instagram,” he says, and I look down to see that he also requested to follow me. When I look back up, he has his phone in his hand. “You can accept now.”

“We’ll see,” I say, putting my phone away, and he glares at me.

“Whatever you say, boss,” he says, and it’s my turn to glare at him. This time, his eyes turn almost a grey when he laughs. He holds up his hands. “I was kidding.”