Now I stared at the second shot, wondering how it had shown up in front of me. Buzzing, my gaze bounced from the amber-colored liquor to Jase. Wait. Was this the second one? Or the third?
I think it was the third.
“It wasn’t me.” He held his hands up.
Avery, who had also indulged a bit, giggled. Her face was so flushed, I could barely make out the freckles. Cam wasn’t drinking, so he was loading her up on drinks. Granted, she deserved to let loose. Raising kids had to . . . My thoughts trailed off, and then I remembered I was trying to figure out how the shot got in front of me.
I turned and looked at Brock.
He was sitting to my left, arms resting on the table. He shrugged a shoulder as he picked up his glass of water. “Thought you looked like you needed another one.”
I studied him for a moment. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Never.” He widened his eyes innocently. “I’m just trying to get you to relax.”
“I am relaxed.” I picked up the glass. “Totes relaxed,” I murmured.
“You’re normally as tense as a damn cobra,” he responded, and I had no idea if cobras were tense. I was going to have to take his word for it. “Drink up.”
I drank up.
The liquid burned my throat and watered my eyes. Gasping for air, I squeezed my eyes shut. “Oh my God, it burns.”
Brock chuckled and leaned into me, his entire right arm pressing against mine, and I liked it. A lot. “It’s the good kind of burn, though. Puts hair on your chest,” he teased.
“That’s hot,” I replied, my gaze dropping from his face to his chest. “You have a nice chest.”
Another laugh rumbled out of Brock. “Well, thank you.”
In the back of my head, I knew I was experiencing the worse case of word vomit, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself, or care. “Do you still have tattoos on your chest?”
His smile was wide as he stared at me. “Since I’m not willing to subject myself to hours of laser removal, yes, I still have tats on my chest, Jilly.”
I nodded, happy to hear this. “I really liked them. Especially the . . . the cross one. Yeah.” Pausing, I easily pictured it in my head. “It’s all Celtic and . . . shit.”
“Celtic and shit.” Jase laughed. “I like the way that sounds.”
“Me too.” I gave him the nod of approval I just knew he was waiting on.
“Look!” Teresa suddenly smacked Jase’s arm. “I am so glad I’m not the only pregnant person here.”
Jase chuckled. “It’s a restaurant and bar. Last time I checked, pregnant women were allowed to eat in places that served food.”
“Yeah, but it feels weird,” she replied. “I feel like everyone is looking at me, secretly judging me.”
“Fuck ’em. You don’t know them. They don’t know you,” I said and then my mouth dropped open. “Sorry. That whole ‘fuck ’em’ part was kind of rude. I’m a bit buzzed.”
Her eyes widened and then she grinned. “I like buzzy Jillian.”
Buzzy Jillian liked her too. I refocused on Brock. “You . . . you know what?”
He took a sip of his water and then was leaning into me again, and I really, really liked that. And I also liked that his dark eyes warmed when he looked me. “What?”
“You seem chill,” I lowered my voice.
“Chill?” He dipped his chin toward me, his dark eyes glittering. “When wasn’t I chill?”
I shrugged. My shoulder knocked into his. “You were all stone face earlier. You know, jaw clenched and quiet.”
“Stone face? That’s a new description.” His gaze flickered across the table before settling on me. “I was just dealing with some stuff.”
Oh. That sounded so dramatic. “What stuff?”
“Stuff,” he repeated, and somehow his mouth ended up closer to mine. So close, that I could feel his breath on my lips. “I’ll tell you about it later. Okay?”
I was staring at his mouth. “Okay.” I had no idea what I was agreeing to, but those lips were lush and curved up.
Brock chuckled again, the deep rich sound that made me feel giddy. Well, giddier than I already felt. Wait. Was giddier a word?
Avery leaned into Cam and tilted her head tilted back as she gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him down to whisper something. His eyes widened slightly and then a knowing grin stretched his lips.
“It’s time for us to leave.” Cam raised his hand, looking around for the waiter.
Teresa arched a brow as Avery giggled again, and all I could think was someone was definitely going to get laid tonight.
Lucky.
The waiter appeared and a couple of blurry minutes later, Avery and I were clinging to one another, saying goodbye, and I tried to hug Teresa, and then I was sitting in Brock’s car.
“Your car is so fancy,” I told him, reaching for the seatbelt. I missed it and reached for it again. “So fancy-smancy.”
Brock laughed as he shut my door. I managed to get myself buckled in by the time he was behind the wheel. “You doing okay over there?”
“I’m doing perfect.” I plopped my purse in my lap, cuddling it close. “Avery and Teresa are really excited about the space . . .” I spent the trip to my apartment going into detail about how excited they were. Brock listened, and whenever I looked over at him, he was grinning as he concentrated on the road. It seemed like it took only seconds to get to my apartment complex. I blinked, and we were in the parking lot, and I was staring up at my darkened window. Unease crowded the happy buzz in my veins. It was early, not even ten o’clock, and the only living thing in my apartment was Rhage, and it was a Friday night. Being alone on the weekends sucked, because everyone else was out there. I didn’t know where exactly, but they were there, and I was over here, doing nothing.