"Sadie! Saaaddiiee giiirrrl." My older sister's friend, Hannah, tottered into the kitchen on high heels which had now become a safety hazard. She tugged the bodice of her strapless dress a smidge higher, then leaned in close enough that the concept of personal space went right out the window.
"Whatcha doin'?" She followed my line of sight and made a little hum of approval when she discovered what had caught my attention. "Checkin' out the hottest guy here? Nice."
The ends of her blonde bob brushed my cheek, and her warm breath hinted of Sambuca and... was that crab dip? I didn't want to encourage her, so I just gave her a smile and went back to admiring the man in question. Mason Blackwood; one-time crush of my teens, current starring role in all my adult fantasies.
I'd never mentioned my attraction to him to anyone, so until now, I'd been able to enjoy my obsession in private. I just hoped Hannah was drunk enough that she wouldn't remember our conversation tomorrow.
"Can't say I blame you." She wrapped her hands around my upper arm and swayed against me. "You know what they say about him, right?"
"Yes, yes I do." Conversations about guy parts tended to catch my attention, and his had become so talked about these days it now had a personality all its own. Funnily enough, it didn't even make the list of things that interested me most about him. "Pretty sure everyone's heard the rumors, Han."
"Big dick," she said, carrying on as if I hadn't said a word. "Huge--and more than happy to share it with anyone who wants a piece of that sweet fucking man cake."
I snorted and shot her a look, ignoring the unintentional sting her words had caused. He wasn't mine. I had no reason to be upset about the attention he got from other women. If my heart could just get on board with that idea and stop flip-flopping around in my chest whenever I heard his name, I'd be fine. "You think maybe you should have another drink?"
We were celebrating my sister Claire's twenty-eighth birthday in the home she shared on the outskirts of Melbourne with her fiancé Andy--and Mason. Our parents were away in Hawaii for another week, and I didn't know many of Claire's friends. Three hours into the party, I had the distinct impression everyone was hammered but me. I couldn't risk drinking, though. I had the tendency for oversharing when I'd had a few, and my feelings for Mason had reached the point now where they'd come flowing out if I so much as sniffed a glass of wine.
"Nah." Hannah waved away my suggestion with a smile, like there was even the slightest chance I was serious. "I've drunken--dranken--shit. The bottle's all gone, is what I'm trying to say."
"That sucks."
"Speaking of sucking, give me five minutes alone with that beautiful bastard. That's all I'd need."
Oooo-kay.
Mason had been a part of my life since he and Claire became best friends back when they were ten years old. Up until my late teens I'd mostly looked up to him in a harmless, hero-worship kind of way, and I'd never been shy about letting him know. When those feelings turned into something more intense, and more... adult, the change must have been so subtle it went straight over his head, because he still treated me like... I don't know. Like he had no clue one touch from him could make my skin tingle, or that when he hugged me my whole world felt like a better, calmer, safer place.
A while ago I would have laughed at a comment like Hannah's, but I'd unintentionally joined the ranks of girls who lusted after him, and all it did was remind me of my competition. Kind of disheartening since the rest of the women in his social circle were a lot more mature, experienced, and completely in the know about how to keep a man like him happy.
What chance did I have as a twenty-one-year-old whose familiarity with men went as far as kissing and some minor groping?
I sighed and squeezed Hannah's hand while we took in the show. Mason stood amongst a cluster of women in a cleared area of the living room, flinging his arms around in that unique way of his that never failed to bring a smile to my face. His dancing style made him look like a hot, sexy idiot, and the fact that he didn't give a crap only increased his appeal. His dark hair was disheveled, his blue eyes bright and full of life. A day's worth of stubble shadowed his jaw, and his fitted charcoal t-shirt showed off the kind of muscles that made me wish for five minutes alone with him, too.
"So, you haven't... gone there yet?" I asked, feigning disinterest while I secretly hung on her every word.
"Me?" Hannah laughed. "Oh, no. Nonononono."
I frowned. She clearly liked him, and he'd developed a reputation for being a man-whore. Sleeping with each other should have been a natural progression. "Why not?"
"Oh, I tried. Don't get me wrong. I threw myself at him... told him straight out I wanted in his pants, but..." She stared off into the distance and swallowed hard. Her eyes watered and her grip on my arm tightened.
Oh, God. Was she crying?
Mason had always been known as a laid-back charmer. One of those types who was a natural with all kinds of people. I couldn't imagine him doing anything that might upset someone--at least not on purpose. "What happened?"
Please don't let it be something that makes me see him in a different light.
"He... he turned me down."
She swallowed again, and her eyes welled until tears threatened to fall. I glanced around the room then back at her, unsure how to handle this situation. Nobody liked being rejected, but her reaction seemed a little over the top. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah." She pulled in a deep breath. "I just... I think I'm gonna puke."
Oh, crap. "I thought you were crying about Mason!" I slid my arm around her waist and pulled her against me.
"No, not crying. More like... purging. On your shoes, maybe." She looked down at my black peep-toe heels, pointing at them like she wasn't sure I knew they were there. "Pretty shoes."
With a choking sound--a little amused, a lot horrified--my hold on her turned vice-like and I checked to make sure we had a clear run to the bathroom. "C'mon. Let's get you out of here."
Hannah leaned on me and let me do most of the work. We managed to cross the room without any major hold-ups, then rounded the corner to the relative quiet of the hallway. With no one else around and the bathroom door hanging open, it looked like we were in luck.
"You're awesome, Sadie-girl," she said as she stumbled and sent me lurching toward the wall. "I think I might be in love with you."
I righted my footing and kept a firm hold on her, hoping like hell neither of us would end up with an injury. "Why don't we see how you feel about that tomorrow?"
She laughed, but then a beat later her humor died. The sound that came next could have been a hiccup or the beginning of something so much worse. Dread washed over me, and I shoved her through the door and dragged her straight to the toilet.
She immediately dropped to her knees, hugged the bowl, and let out a god-almighty roar that made the tiny hairs rise on my forearms. With my hands pressing her chin-length hair to the sides of her head, I closed my eyes and sighed. If I thought Sambuca and crab dip had made a bad combination earlier...