Chapter 20 #2
Milo’s face twisted into a sinister smile. “You’re goddamn right about that.”
“Milo,” she warned.
He leaned closer, dropping his forefinger over her bare shoulder.
“Which color did you go with?”
She mirrored his expression. “Neither.”
He let out a breath, polishing off his beer. “I look forward to verifying that later,” he mumbled, a hand tugging at the hem below her ass. She wanted to lean into his touch, but there were too many of them around.
“How’s Matty?” She changed the subject, desperate to take her mind off of his hands.
“He won twelve hundred dollars and is working on a grand plan to convince Sara to marry him at the Taco Bell Cantina, so I would say he’s enjoying himself.”
Hanna shrugged. “I’d be cool to get it all over with tonight, especially if there’s a Cha?upa at the end.”
Milo moved closer and she braced for whatever depraved thing he had on his mind just as an arm draped over her shoulder.
She drew in a sharp breath, already irritated.
“Hanna! What are we drinking?” Logan slurred.
“I am drinking a whiskey sour. You should probably drink some water.”
She slipped out from under his arm, only for it to land around her waist.
The bastard never learns.
Hanna glanced at Milo, trying to read his face, or at least send a distress signal, but he only ordered another beer.
“Can I get two glasses of water?” she asked the bartender, who was quick to make it happen. She handed one to Logan. “Drink.”
“Don’t be so boring.”
Her lips pressed together, his complaint hitting an inflamed nerve.
He'd used that word once during an argument when she hadn't wanted to book a last-minute trip to New York for a weekend visit. Not because she was boring, but because she had been stressed with work and hadn’t wanted to lose three days.
Now, of course, she realized he was projecting. Sloane was just so spontaneous. One of the many reasons he’d cited for thinking she was the better fit.
“Yep, that’s me,” she bit. “You wanted someone more exciting, right? How’s that working out?”
They had Milo’s attention again, his eyes sliding back toward them. The muscles in Logan’s neck tensed.
“Sloane was a mistake,” he said, his words slipping together like wet clay. “She just didn’t get me. Not like you do.”
“Of course, it’s all her fault. That checks out.”
Hanna shoved his hand away and stomped off, eagerly on the hunt for Sara and the rest of the bridal party. Logan called after her, but someone must have stopped him from following because he stayed put.
Milo, however, did not.
“You know what’s boring?” he asked, catching up and herding her toward a blackjack table. “Watching me lose a couple hundred bucks in record time.”
She laughed, shrugging. “Can I have your free drinks?”
He nodded his head and slid into the last empty chair at the table.
“You can have whatever you want, Arizona.” He wiggled his eyebrows as he threw his chips down.
She sipped on a complimentary Jack and Diet while he played five hands, winning all but the last. She finished her drink as he collected his chips.
“Where to?” he asked as they wound through flashing lights and clouds of smoke.
“We should probably find the rest of the crew,” she said. “Don’t need any more side-eye from the bridesmaids.”
Milo laughed. “Please, those fuckers are all so blasted they can’t keep track of themselves, let alone us.”
He had a point.
“True, but I should find Sara.”
Milo smiled and pointed toward the massive chandelier in the middle of the casino.
“I spy a silver cowgirl hat.”
“Yeehaw,” Hanna mumbled.
Milo went his separate way as soon as he knew she had her target locked, going around to enter the bar from the other side of the casino.
Because he'd heard what she'd said about the bridesmaids watching their every move, she realized. And he'd listened.
Imagine that.
“Where were you?” Logan asked when she rejoined the group.
She shrugged. “I went to play blackjack.”
"You don't gamble," he lilted, turning to Brendon. "She doesn't gamble."
“You don’t know that,” said sharply, also turning to Brendon, who looked like he may not have been present with them any longer. “He doesn’t know that.”
Logan held his hands up. “Okay fine. Hanna, the whiskey drinker. Also, the gambler. What’s next? Ripping lines off a Vegas toilet?”
“Night’s young.”
“This isn’t you,” he said, shaking his head. “This is him.”
She tapped her fingers angrily against the bar.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. This has Milo written all over it. You’re hardly his first project.”
Hanna glared, a rush of venom pooling on her tongue.
“Project?”
“Yeah, Hanna. A project. He can’t fucking help himself.
He loves a damsel in distress who he can psychoanalyze, smooth talk, and have crawling all over him at his beck and call without ever committing, while claiming it's something he 'just can't do.
' I've known the guy since he was a kid, Hanna.
I've watched him play the same game for fifteen fucking years.”
Her chest tightened, the room’s temperature skyrocketing with each word. She folded her arms around herself, a prickling at the back of her neck sending shivers down her spine.
I’m a fucking moron.
“You know I’m right,” Logan murmured.
“You’re drunk.”
He arched his brows. “Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
She bit down on her tongue. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
"I know exactly what I'm talking about," he said and threw back the rest of his drink. He gestured to the suited-up figure drifting toward them. "Go ahead, ask him how I know."
“Logan,” she warned.
Milo set his whiskey on the bar and Brendon looked nervous, tapping Matty on the shoulder to call his attention to what was about to happen.
Logan could barely hold eye contact with Milo.
“What’s going on?” Milo asked.
“Does Hanna know about Michaela?”
Milo’s eyes widened at the name, but he recovered smoothly, looking at Hanna.
“I don’t think your brother’s bachelor party is the time to rehash ancient history, Logan.”
“Typical,” Logan muttered.
Milo moved toward him, his hand out to de-escalate the situation, but Logan—blasted—read it as aggression. Milo lowered his voice in an attempt to get Logan to back down.
“I’m not trying to get into anything with you right now, Logan. You’re drunk and you need to back off.” Milo turned to Hanna, lowering his voice even further. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, Arizona. It’s not a secret.”
Logan shook his head, stepping closer, just a few inches of distance between them.
“Cut the therapy bullshit. It’s exhausting. We get it, you’re better than us.”
“Lo,” Matty said, his lips pursed in irritation.
“Great,” Logan snorted. “He steals my girlfriend, he steals my brother, he steals my other girlfriend,” he ranted, gesturing to Hanna.
Milo’s fingers twitched. “You know, Logan, there’s a common denominator in all these relationships falling apart and it’s not me.”
Hanna couldn’t keep watching the flames roar back and forth, she had to intervene. She slipped between them, facing Logan and resting her palms against his chest.
“Just let it go, Lo. We should be celebrating Matty and Sara tonight.”
“He’ll crush you,” Logan said, eyes locked over her head on Milo. “You’ll get attached, he’ll get bored. Lather, rinse, repeat.”
“Alright, Logan,” she growled. “That’s enough.”
A hand landed on her shoulder, Milo’s cologne washing over her.
"Oh," Logan scoffed, his glare flashing between Milo's eyes and hand on Hanna's shoulder. "It's too late for you, huh?"
Milo moved his hand, but Logan had already come unglued.
"I'm disappointed, Hanna. I thought you were smarter than that."
She saw red. “I haven’t been, historically.”
“You should go back to the hotel, Logan,” Matty suggested. “Sleep it off, okay?”
“I’m good,” Logan forced through clenched teeth.
“You know what? We’ll go,” Hanna shrugged. She reached for Sara’s hand and pulled her away, Taylor and Maricela close on their heels.
“That was kinda hot,” Sara said, giggling. “You okay?”
“Never better,” she muttered. “I need a shot and a dance floor.”
* * *
ALWAYS ANSWER
You okay, Arizona?
I’m sorry about Logan.
Happy to talk as soon as you’re ready.
Drop a pin if you want.
“How much longer are you gonna torture this poor man?” Taylor leaned over a spread of tacos, Chalupas, and Mexican pizzas with her spiked Baja Blast.
“No more Milo talk,” Hanna declared, working her way through a dozen different combinations of the same four ingredients. “What we should talk about is the rehearsal dinner and what we’re wearing. Sara, we need a rundown.”
Sara dutifully pushed them onward. “Okay, the rehearsal dinner is next on the list, but we should really talk about the welcome party.” She clapped her hands together.
“I know we said no more Milo talk, but I actually managed to convince him to let us use the bar’s rooftop for our welcome cocktail party.
Matty swears it has a great view of the skyline at sunset, and Janet said she can hang some string lights across the roof to give it that really romantic glow. ”
Hanna wondered for a moment what Janet was like, if Milo got his softness from her or his dad.
“Hanna and I were thinking peonies, but I just saw the most gorgeous hydrangea setup in this magazine on the flight out here. When we get back to the hotel,I’ll show you all.”
HANNA
You don’t owe me any explanations, Milo. We’re just friends, remember?
ALWAYS ANSWER
We’re not just anything, Hanna. Please let me send an Uber for you. We can go grab something to eat and hash this all out.
HANNA
I’m designing centerpieces. Crucial. Can’t miss it.
ALWAYS ANSWER has shared his location.
She rolled her eyes and sipped her boozy slushie, but she still tapped the dot on the map.
Seven minutes away.
“Matty has his own room,” Sara mused. “I could disappear for the night.”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t know what to do.”
Sara leaned in close, bumping her shoulder into Hanna’s.
“What would your mom tell you to do?”
“Are you set on hydrangeas? Because when I think fall, I think something like this,” Maricela chirped, flipping her phone toward them.
A cluster of glowing sunflowers nestled between dripping greens and soft pink peonies cast a yellow glow on Sara’s face.
“Well then,” Sara smirked. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”