Page 76 of The Quit List
Aaron crosses his finger over his heart. “Solemnly swear.”
“Okayyy,” Aubrey says slowly, looking hesitant as she tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
I sit up and give her a little shove. “Go see your lover boy!”
Dallas nods at her, his green eyes suddenly sincere and all hints of roguish flirting extinguished. “We’ll take good care of your girl, I promise.”
These hockey players are so sweet, I tell you. Way sweeter than those violent outbursts on the ice earlier would have suggested.
This must be what Mindy felt like back before she settled down and had kids. She used to go out partying every weekend, surrounded by guys and living her best life.
I have to admit, it feels nice to be in this role, even if it is for one night.
Aubrey eventually acquiesces, saying she’ll text me every fifteen minutes to check in with me.
Once she leaves, I order a third cocktail. Not sure why. Must be because I’m having such a nice time not worrying about impressing a date or the way I’m coming across.
I’m just being myself. No more lies about being super into Scrabble or loving all things crochet. I’m being Holly Greene. Well, a tipsily-more-sociable-people-person version of Holly Greene.
In fact, I am feeling so tipsily sociable that, whenever Dallas suggests we all hit the dance floor down below, I’m one of the first to get to my feet.
A group of us, including Aaron, Dallas, someone bizarrely named Triple J, and a couple of the girls, make our way out of the VIP section and towards the dance floor. Right before we get there, though, I nod at Aaron. “Need to pee, I’ll meet you in a minute.”
Never thought I’d be telling a star athlete my bladder status, but here I am.
He glances around the bar quickly—he has the advantage of height above this hectic crowd of people. “Want me to come with you?”
I shake my head and yell above the music, “I’m good, I already know where the bathrooms are.”
“See you on the dancefloor, then!” Aaron gives me an aye-aye-captain sort of salute with a lopsided grin that makes him look even more dashing, and then, he disappears into the throng of people near the dancefloor, following his hockey guys.
I turn on my heel, take a few steps…
And run straight into a tall man’s lean chest.
I look up at his face and my jaw drops.
“Dylan?!” I squeak.
Oh, for goodness sake. Of all of the things to happen right now…
Dylan blinks down at me. “Holly.”
His hands are clasping my upper arms to steady me, and I suddenly notice how cold they are. I hurriedly push away from him and end up stumbling a little—more so from the sticky floor gripping onto my heels than from the alcohol. “Fancy seeing you here!”
It’s only then that I realize he’s wearing a suit. And he’s with a whole group of suit-looking types. All very professional looking. Which I’d imagine is a bit odd for a bar, but how would I know? They’re also all very sober looking in comparison to, well… me.
“What are you doing here?” Dylan asks, a strange look flitting across his face. “I didn’t know you liked to go out on weekends.”
“I’m here with some new friends!” I turn around to point in the direction of where Aaron just disappeared, but the hockey players have been swallowed by the crowd on the dance floor, so I ultimately look like I’m pointing at imaginary friends.
“Right.” Dylan appears mildly concerned, his blond brows drawing into a frown. “Don’t you have a shift tomorrow?”
“Not until later in the day,” I reply, some of my alcohol-soaked bravado wearing off.
“And you’re sure this is the most…. responsible choice on a work night.” His eyes do a quick sweep down my body. He now seems even more concerned and my shoulders arc instinctively.
Dylan has this way of making me feel a little small at times. I used to brush it off as him trying to hold back from flirting or showing his feelings for me in front of our coworkers—although he did also have a habit back in college of dismissing me. At the time I chalked it up to him being older, more worldly and experienced.