His scowl changes to worry and he shifts uncomfortably. “Not yet. Soon. I hope. If she says yes.”
“Goddammit, why didn’t you say something?” I pull him into a hug and thump him on the back. “You’re one lucky bastard, you know that?”
He hugs me back briefly before withdrawing. Asher’s pretty much the best friend I have in this world, and I’ve never seen him as happy as he is with Maggie. “I know,” he grumbles. “Trust me, I know. I just don’t want to scare her away.”
“You won’t.” Damn. Who would’ve guessed that Asher Logan would ever be worried about a woman turning him down? “She’s mad about you and your ugly mug.”
He smirks. “I’m serious about Hanna, though. Be careful with her.”
I nod, looking back into the room, where Hanna and Maggie are talking. “What do you know about the boyfriend?”
Asher shrugs. “He’s a local. Good guy.”
“Does he make her happy?”
Asher’s face hardens. “No, man. Don’t play that game. Taken is taken.”
I hold up my hands, palms out. “Understood.”
“Really? Because Maggie will have my ass if you seduce her sister.”
I nod, but I don’t make any promises. There’s a sadness in Hanna’s eyes that I recognize too well. She’s not happy. She wouldn’t be staying here with me if she were.
Maggie saunters out of the room, her eyes eating up Asher. He’s worried she won’t say yes? She’s as crazy about him as he is about her. Lucky assholes.
She slides her arm through Asher’s and tilts her face toward his, her eyes bright with adoration. “Ready to go?”
“Goodnight,” I call as they walk away, but they’re already so absorbed in each other that they don’t notice me.
When I head back into the dressing room, Hanna has gotten herself a new drink. She’s leaning against the wall with her eyes closed.
All that dark hair hanging down her back, her curves hugged tight by that killer dress, and damn—those shoes. Black strappy heels that show off her red-painted toes. Black heels I’ve imagined digging into my back since she first cracked that smile at me.
She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in months—hell, maybe ever—and I need beautiful after the ugly week I’ve had.
She opens her eyes and locks them on mine. Shrugging, she looks bashful for the first time all night. “Here we are.” Her eyes skim over me, and her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip.
Oh, damn.
I’ve never been the kind of guy who goes after another man’s woman. I’ve known guys who get a thrill out of that—the conquest of it, the competition. Not me. But damn.
“My sister is going to be so pissed that she chose some club in Indy over coming with Maggie tonight.”
I grab a beer out of the mini fridge. “Why’s that?”
“If she finds out she could have spent the night hanging with Nate Crane? Are you kidding me?” Her purse buzzes and her smile falls away. “I bet that’s her.”
“You sure it’s not your boyfriend?”
Shaking her head, she draws her phone from her purse. “‘What am I missing?’ she’s asking. See? Twin think.” But she doesn’t smile when she says it. Instead, it’s almost like the words are a painful reminder.
“You’re a twin?”
She slides the phone back into her purse without typing a reply. “What is it with boys and their obsession with twins?”
I grin and shake my head. “I swear, my curiosity isn’t rooted in a sexual fetish.”
“Good. Because I’m not that kind of twin. Not by a long shot.”