You're Still the One Read Free

drink. “It’s only for the summer,” she vowed, grateful that Kurt had at least gotten her order right. “Between texts, calls, and Skype, you won’t even know I’m gone. Besides, I’m still hoping you’ll join me for the fourth.” Stirring her straw, she added wistfully, “Fireworks, a couple of Hurricanes, and a crowded Bourbon Street? Imagine the damage you could do.”
    Lana’s eyes twinkled with mischief, her bout of impending loneliness forgotten. “Hmm. I don’t know. Think they can handle me down there?”
    “Sweetie, no one can handle you. We just try our best to keep up.”
    Her friend laughed and raised her drink in salute. “A toast,” she declared. “To an incredible summer kicking butt and chasing dreams.” She waggled her eyebrows and added, “And a hot night filled with possibilities.”
    As the clink of their glasses permeated the air, the skin at Ella’s nape prickled with awareness. A shocked gasp parted her lips.
    Lana’s gaze drifted to the left. “Future conquest at eleven o’clock.”
    Arabella nodded, though she hadn’t needed the warning. Her body was well aware, firing like it always did whenever Charlie was near, even when she merely watched him from the shadows. Pushing, prodding, begging her to step out and take a chance. For once, she intended to heed that call.
    Honestly, she didn’t need much. She didn’t expect forever. She simply wanted one night to live out her fantasy. For as long as she could remember, Charlie Tucker had been the guy, and tonight, all she wanted was for him to see her as more than just a little kid. To actually see her as someone desirable.
    To simply see… her .
    …
    Charlie tugged at the tie that was hell-bent on choking him, and his sister swatted his hand.
    “Stop messing with it,” she chastised, fixing the impossible knot at his throat. “It’s supposed to be this high. You’d know that if you bothered to dress up more than once every blue moon.” Grace leaned back to inspect him, touched his newly scruff-free cheek, and gave a satisfied smile. “There. You actually clean up pretty nice when you bother to try. Much less hooligan and more James Bond.”
    Charlie snorted and shot her a look. “Hooligan? What are you, eighty?” Then, ignoring her frustrated sigh, he slid two fingers behind his stiff collar and yanked. “And don’t get used to the monkey suit. The only reason I’m in this thing is so boss-man can see me play nice for the cameras, and then I’m getting the hell out of here. Tyler and the boys owe me for this.”
    When another sweeping glance of the room proved Stone was still MIA, and torture-by-tie wasn’t ending any time soon, he grabbed a hoity-toity puff pastry thing off a passing tray. It was gone in one bite, and his stomach grumbled. He should’ve grabbed the whole platter.
    “I’ve got to say I’m impressed,” Grace commented, her tight voice indicating she was anything but. “You weren’t lying before. You’re literally just standing here, sucking up oxygen, and they’re circling like piranhas.” She indicated the dozens of women staring appreciatively in his direction, not a one deterred by her presence. “How do they know I’m not the love of your life? We could be madly in love, eager for a moment alone, and they’re waiting around for me to slip off to the bathroom.” She scrunched her nose. “It’s seriously disgusting.”
    “You’re the one theoretically hooking up with your brother,” he commented dryly. She elbowed him in the ribs, and a grin curved his mouth. He glanced back at the crowd and spotted a former hookup shooting him daggers. Nadia? Natasha? He knew it started with an N . Taking hold of his sister’s elbow, he casually nudged her a couple steps to the left.
    “It’s not even me they’re after anymore,” he told her, leaning his back against the wall. “They want their five minutes of fame and a picture to post on Instagram, but tonight, they’re wasting their