The Best Mistake - Cookie O'Gorman Page 0,1

his partners more than satisfied.”

This wasn’t news. It was exactly why I’d chosen him. “That’s what Anna in my Stats class said. And Clara in Business Accounting…and Jeanette.”

“Then what’s the problem?” she said. “He’s hot, easy, and I know you’re packing protection. You’ve still got the condom I gave you, right?”

I nodded, very aware of the little foil packet currently in the confines of my modest B cup. The edges bit into my skin. Like Hester Prynne and her scarlet letter, I had a Trojan horse stamped on my left breast. With the ridiculously tiny dress, there was no other place for it.

“And for God’s sake, are you ever going to take that coat off? It’s like a hundred degrees in here.”

“I will in a minute,” I mumbled.

“You said that forty minutes ago.”

I had. “Well, I’m working up to it.”

“You said that, too.” Charlie sighed—then shot a smile at Rocker Guy who’d finally reached us.

“Hey,” he said in a gravelly smoker’s voice. “I’m Vayne.”

Figures, I thought.

“Hey yourself,” Charlie said, “I thought you were just gonna stare at me all night and never come over.”

“Well, you’re so beautiful for a second I thought this might be a dream.”

“Cute,” she said, reaching for his beer. “May I?”

“Sure thing, sugar.” Vayne grinned. “What’s mine is yours.”

She smiled at him, slowly running the edge of the bottle against her lips. “Thanks.”

Vayne followed the movement, eyes entranced as she took a small sip.

“And it’s Charlie, not sugar.”

He was so awestruck he didn’t notice her slight frown, how her eyes suddenly lost interest. But I did. I’d seen it too many times to count. Vayne/Rocker Guy didn’t have a chance with my best friend now. He’d made it too easy. Shaking my head, I had to give it to her. Charlie was a master at this whole seduction thing. Too bad I wasn’t more like her. If so, I might never have been in this situation.

Shifting her eyes to me, she said, “Honor, are you sure you still want to do this?”

“Do what?” Vayne said, but we both ignored him.

“Because if not, that’s totally cool,” she added.

“I’m sure,” I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. The Plan had been my idea, after all, and I did want this.

“Then take off the coat. I’m not going to ask you again.”

“It’s actually kind of cold in here,” I said, faking a shiver. “I think I’ll just wait another—”

“21 years?” she finished. “Sorry, don’t think so.”

“Charlie!” I shrieked as she directed a small spray of beer my way. I scrambled out of the coat, holding my book out, checking it frantically for damage. “What the heck was that for?”

“Just giving you a jump start.”

The book was safe, thank God, but the coat was a lost cause. Did beer stain? I wondered, watching the liquid drip to the floor, glad it hadn’t gotten on my skin. It was only a small amount. I’d admittedly over-reacted because of my beloved book. But the smell was awful, and I still didn’t understand why people drank it. “What do you mean jump start?”

Charlie shrugged as I shot her a glare. “You now have the attention of every guy in here, including the O’Briens.”

“Huh?”

It wasn’t until that moment I realized two things: Charlie was right. Everyone in the living room had stopped what they were doing to stare at the crazy, flailing girl in the corner. And if that wasn’t horrifying enough, without the protection of my outer layer, I was now completely exposed. The red mini dress Charlie had convinced me to wear wouldn’t quite reach mid-thigh no matter how much I tugged. The V in front seemed a lot more risqué than it had in my bedroom, and I still wasn’t convinced that high heels weren’t torture devices. I tucked my hair behind my ear. Why couldn’t they just look away already?

“Smile, dammit,” Charlie muttered.

I forced a smile while adjusting the much-too-short dress.

“And stop fidgeting. They’re staring because they like what they see.”

“Really?” I asked, taking in the faces again.

Even if their last name hadn’t been written across the back of their jerseys, Charlie had taught me how to spot an O’Brien. Broad shoulders, sharp jaw, dark-golden-brown hair and the most unusual, piercing gray eyes. They were all man, and their pure masculinity made any female glad to be a woman.

Actually Charlie’s exact words were, “They’re hot as hell. One look and you’ll go up in flames.”

Having four pairs of those gray eyes on me was unsettling.

I didn’t know