Chapter 30
THIRTY
Tim’s birthday party is in full swing.
The low hum of laughter and chatter fills the air as I sit at the table with Tally, Mac, Tim, and the two guys from his crew, Steven and Adam.
Yesterday and today went the same as the day before.
We drove to work in North’s BMW without him saying a word to me, in stark contrast to Nash, who talked my ear off, flirted shamelessly, and even made me laugh.
He’s wearing me down, even though I’m still annoyed at his comment about taking a second spin on the ride.
I kept my head down, working on the boat that seems to have become my worst enemy, and after a shift in the restaurant yesterday, I retreated to my guestroom and closed the door. Saylor didn’t show up until just a few hours ago, so I spent the evening yesterday reading a book to occupy my thoughts.
It was a well-needed break.
I have thought about the tingling feeling between us way too much. I have no idea how this is possible. But, like I told Saylor, it has been years since I touched a ghost, so it could be a feeling I would get from any of them, although I doubt it.
He’s special.
And he’s standing right next to our table, beside me.
Tally and I decorated the restaurant with balloons and a “Happy Birthday” garland on the wall.
On every table, there are a few bottles of alcohol, and there is a big cooler with beers and soda right next to the kitchen.
In the kitchen, there are plates upon plates with finger foods Mac, Tally, and I made.
It’s casual and fun, and I’m having a great time. The loudspeakers, which normally just provide background music, are now blasting, and some guys and girls are dancing where we pulled away tables to create a makeshift dance floor.
There are a lot of people here. It seems like the whole town made it to celebrate with Tim.
I know a few of my coworkers hanging around, but none of the girls.
They are all dressed as if we were going to a club.
I wanted to wear my usual jeans and hoodie, but Tally said gatherings like this are the equivalent of going out in a city, so everyone would be dressed nicely.
She lent me tight jeans and a tight, black, long-sleeved crop top that shows some cleavage and leaves a sliver of my stomach bare.
It’s not my style, as I’m usually more into casual stuff, but I like how it looks on me.
“Come on, baby, just a glass. I’m turning thirty only once,” Tim pleads with Tally, grabbing my attention back at the table.
“You know the rules, babe. As long as I can’t drink, you can’t either. You got me into this mess, so you’re going to sit in it with me.” She smiles, biting down on a mozzarella stick.
“You’re brutal,” I tease, laughing as Mac pours him and me another tequila shot. It’s my fourth one tonight, and I can already feel it going to my head while Mac looks like he’s been drinking water.
“Are you sure you want to drink that?” Saylor asks, concerned when I grab the shot, but I just clink it with Mac and tilt my head back, letting the liquid burn down my throat and warm my insides.
“Sure, why not get drunk in a room full of men who are already leering at you?” He’s like a mother hen and has been in my ears the whole evening, cautioning me to be careful.
I shoot him a look. “Hey, I know I’m overbearing, but I know those guys, and some of them are dirty fuckers.
I don’t want you to stumble into one of them.
I can’t protect you, and it drives me nuts. ”
I know what and who he means. I’ve felt enough of their eyes on me while I work. But I don’t believe anything could happen here with so many people around.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, making Mac laugh.
“Are you giving yourself a little pep talk over there, Mouse?” He chuckles before filling another glass for me. “Since you’re fine…” He grins, pushing it over the table to me.
I shrug and take the shot.
“Fucking perfect,” Saylor mutters, turning away from me with his arms crossed over his chest.
My attention drifts from our group to a couple of tables down where Nash stands, leaning against the table, sipping on his beer.
He looks bitable as usual, wearing dark-washed jeans, a dark red knit sweater with bunched-up sleeves, and a dark red beanie, with his hair peeking out, framing his face.
He’s grinning and seemingly flirting with a striking redhead standing before him.
A twinge of jealousy surges within me.
Get a grip, Sloan.
I already knew that he didn’t mean anything with all his flirting. It’s just who he is.
I’m nothing special to him.
North is sitting on the table Nash stands next to with some of my coworkers, sipping a beer. He’s dressed more casually, blending in with the crowd, unlike the usual suit that makes him stand out as the boss. I can only see his upper half, but he’s wearing a black hoodie.
Our gazes meet briefly, and I quickly look away.
Great, just great.
I’m lucky Hunter stayed home with Lio. Having three of the Joneses here is making the flutter in my chest worse enough.
Tally notices my struggle. “Hey, you all right?” she asks, putting her hand over mine on the table.
“Sure,” I mutter, shooting another glance at Nash, who is reaching out to touch the redhead on her upper arm.
I decided I didn’t want to give him his second spin, so why am I feeling this way?
Tally grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet. “Come on, forget about this idiot,” she urges, her voice filled with determination.
Mac stands too, and Rihanna’s “S&M” starts playing as Tally pulls me onto the makeshift dance floor.
We begin to dance, and whether it’s the alcohol or just being here with friends, I let go.
Tally is swaying more than dancing, but Mac pulls out his best robot moves, making us giggle.
Saylor seems to have cooled off because he comes to dance beside me, smiling when I give him a grin.
“You know, I was as hot as you once too, before I became a whale,” Tally reminisces loudly, so I can hear her over the music as she strokes her belly.
“You’re even hotter now, baby,” Tim tells her as he comes up from behind her, his hands on her belly, nuzzling her neck.
She giggles and turns to him, putting her arms around his neck as they sway together, leaving me to dance with Mac and Saylor.
But it doesn’t last long as another fisherman approaches Mac, and they start dancing closely.
All of Mac’s playfulness is gone, and it’s pretty hot as he pulls the guy to him with force.
Get it, Mac.
I turn to Saylor, who is already focused on me. He dances up to me, getting close and locking his eyes on mine. His gaze is intense as he reaches out and lets his knuckles glide down my arms, sending tingles all over me and making my heart skip a beat.
I start to pant when he gets even closer and puts his hands on my hips, the tingles on the bare skin more intense than ever.
I try to dance as if I’m dancing by myself, not drunk enough to forget that I’m the only one who can see him.
I close my eyes, letting my body sway to the music, and revel in his touch, now wandering to my neck.
Suddenly, I feel warmth against my back and a very real hand on my belly.
That’s definitely not Saylor.
The tingles stop, and I glance down to see Nash’s tattooed forearm as he pulls me back against his chest, swaying to the music in sync with me.
My eyes come up to Saylor, his hurt expression like a pit of guilt in my stomach as he takes a few steps back. I frown at him, but he only presses his eyes shut and mutters, “Fuck,” then vanishes.
Before I can think too much about what this new feeling means or the look on Saylor’s face, Nash leans in closer, his warm breath against my neck.
His touch is addictive, and I consider stepping away from him, but his hands glide from my stomach to my waist, tracing the curves of my hips and causing me to arch into his touch.
It seems like tequila and Nash don’t mix well because my brain has bid fucking farewell.
Nash’s lips brush against my earlobe, his hot breath sending a thrill through my body as he whispers, “You feel so good, pretty girl.”
I can’t help but let out a soft sigh, my fingers finding their way to his on my hips, entwining with his as we continue to move in perfect harmony. Our bodies sway to the music, and I revel in the sensation of being so close to him after all this pining.
Nash’s lips trace a path down my neck, and I tilt my head to give him better access, my heart pounding in my chest. His mouth finds the sensitive spot just below my ear, and I gasp, my grip on his hands tightening.
Nash’s hips press firmly against my ass, his hard-on evident. My back arches against him, my body seeking even more of the delicious friction.
“Trying to resist the siren is futile,” he whispers in my ear.
The nickname feels like a bucket of cold water, reminding me that he’s just trying to prove to himself and his buddies that he can fuck me a second time.
I detangle my hands from his, prompting him to set his hands flat against my body again.
“Where’s your pretty friend?” I ask in a cold tone, stopping my dancing.
“Jealous?” He chuckles in my ear, his hand on my stomach wandering further down.
I step out of his embrace and turn to face him, but he just looks at me with a self-righteous grin.
“You wish,” I huff, turning to walk over to our table where Tally and Tim are already sitting, but he steps in my way and pulls me to him by the back of my neck, tilting it and pushing back the hair over my ear.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about your tight little pussy and the sounds you make since I came inside you,” he whispers, his words making the spot between my legs ache with need.
He leans back to look into my eyes, and I see his are hooded. The hand on my neck wanders up to cup my cheek, his thumb stroking over my bottom lip.
“I have not once thought about you,” I whisper on a breath, unable to look away from his intense gaze.