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I stop looking when I notice my mind wandering, thinking about how he looks in swim shorts and no shirt.
“I’m Blake,” he says. “I’m Rob’s brother.”
Rob? Oh yeah, the guy who owns The Underground.
I reach out my hand and Blake gently shakes it.
“Camryn.”
I hear Natalie’s voice over the music before I even see her. She makes her way through a cluster of people standing around near the dance floor and pushes her way past to get to me. Immediately, she takes note of Blake and her eyes start glistening, lighting up with her huge, blatant smile. Damon, following behind her with her hand still clasped in his, notices, too, but he just locks emotionless eyes with me. I get the strangest feeling from it, but I brush it off as Natalie presses her shoulder into mine.
“What are you doing over here?” she asks with obvious accusation in her voice. She’s grinning from ear to ear and glances between Blake and me several times before giving me all of her attention.
“Having a drink,” I say. “Did you come over here to get one for yourself, or to check up on me?”
“Both!” she says, letting Damon’s hand fall away from hers and she reaches up and taps her fingers on the bar, smiling at Blake. “Anything with Vodka.”
Blake nods and looks at Damon.
“I’ll have Rum and Coke,” Damon says.
Natalie presses her lips against the side of my head and I feel the heat of her breath on my ear when she whispers, “Holy shit, Cam! Do you know who that is?”
I notice Blake’s mouth spread subtly into a smile, having heard her.
Feeling my face get hot with embarrassment, I whisper back, “Yeah, his name is Blake.”
“That’s Rob’s brother!” she hisses; her gaze falls back on him.
I look up at Damon, hoping he’ll get the hint and drag her off somewhere, but this time he pretends not to ‘get it’. Where is the Damon I know, the one who used to have my back when it came to Natalie?
Uh oh, he must be pissed at her again. He only ever acts like this when Natalie has opened her big mouth, or done something that Damon just can’t get past. We’ve only been here for about thirty minutes. What could she have done in such a short time? And then I realize: this is Natalie and if anyone can piss off a boyfriend in under an hour and without knowing it, it’s her.
I slip off the barstool and take her by the arm, pulling her away from the bar. Damon, probably knowing what my plan is, stays behind with Blake.
The music seems to have gotten louder as the live band ends one song and starts the next.
“What did you do?” I demand, turning her around to face me.
“What do you mean what did I do?” She’s hardly even paying attention to me; her body moves subtly with the music instead.
“Nat, I’m serious.”
Finally, she stops and looks right at me, searching my face for answers.
“To piss Damon off?” I say. “He was fine when we came in here.”
She looks across the space briefly at Damon standing by the bar, sipping his drink, and then back at me with a confused look on her face. “I didn’t do anything … I don’t think.” She looks up as if in thought, trying to recall what she might have said or done.
She puts her hands on her hips. “What makes you think he’s pissed?”
“He’s got that look,” I say, glancing back at him and Blake, “and I hate it when you two fight, especially when I’m stuck with you for the night and have to listen to you both go back and forth about stupid shit that happened a year ago.”
Natalie’s confused expression turns into a devious smile. “Well, I think you’re paranoid and maybe trying to distract me from saying anything about you and Blake.” She’s getting that playful look now and I hate it.
I roll my eyes. “There is no ‘me and Blake’, we’re just talking.”
“Talking is the first step. Smiling at him—” her grin deepens, “which I totally saw you doing when I walked up—is the next step.” She crosses her arms and pops out her hip. “I bet you’ve already had a conversation with him without him having to pry the answers out of you—Hell, you already know his name.”
“For someone who wants me to have a good time and meet a guy, you don’t know when to shut up when things already appear to be going your way.”
Natalie lets the music dictate her movement again, raising her hands up a little above her and moving her hips around seductively. I just stand here.
“Nothing’s going to happen,” I say sternly. “You got what you wanted and I’m talking to someone and have no intention in telling him I have Chlamydia, so please, don’t make a scene.”
She gives in with a long, deep sigh and stops dancing long enough to say, “I guess you’re right. I’ll leave you to him, but if he takes you up to Rob’s Floor, I want details.” She points her finger at me firmly, one eye slanted and her lips pursed.
“Fine,” I say, just to get her off my back, “but don’t hold your breath because it’s not gonna happen.”
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