Taylor’s shocked gasp echoed in the room. “Not seen Harry Potter! Did you not even read the books? How can you not have read the freaking books?”
“I don’t know?” Taylor sure was being loud. But at least she was here, and she could guide Greer around the room, because being without glasses? It was rougher than she’d anticipated. Greer reached out and grabbed Taylor’s arm. “Can you help me out? I can’t find anyone at this party.”
“It is pretty crowded,” Taylor said sympathetically. “I’d rather be home playing Warcraft or Excelsior, but what can you do, right?” She linked her arm with Greer’s. “You look great without the glasses.”
“Thanks.” Sure, she was blind, but you suffered for greatness.
“You want to go see Gretchen and Hunter? They look super cute tonight. They’re giving off more sexual tension than Scully and Mulder.”
“That’s all right. I’m looking for someone else.” It was bad form to avoid the bride at the engagement party, but Gretchen tended to have a big mouth and she’d totally call Greer out on her uber-sexy ensemble. Greer needed to find Asher before she accidentally smeared her eye makeup or spilled a drink down her front, or something.
“Who did you say you were looking for again?” Taylor asked, steering them through the crowd.
“Asher? Do you know him?”
“Vaguely,” Taylor said, and she didn’t sound super happy. “Wouldn’t you rather hang out with Chelsea, or maybe Sebastian? I saw them over in a corner.”
“No, I want Asher,” Greer said firmly. “Where’s he at?”
Taylor sighed. “Well . . . he’s drunk and kind of being an ass. He made fun of my costume.”
“Because you’re a Hogwart?”
“Oh my god, how do you not know Harry Potter lingo?” She sighed dramatically. “Muggles. Damn muggles.”
Greer was starting to wonder if Asher wasn’t the only one drinking. But Taylor turned down a hall and started to steer her toward a new area. That was encouraging. She resisted the urge to check her lipstick and fuss with her hair. She’d looked good the last time she’d seen her reflection. She was just nervous, that was all. “So Asher was drinking?”
“Yeah, he and a few of the guys were hanging out in the corner bro-ing down or whatever you call it when guys act like jackasses at a party.” Taylor steered them through another hall. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I won’t.” Asher was her objective here tonight. Nothing else mattered. She’d stand up in front of a dozen drunk guys in a skimpy costume as long as Asher saw her. He’d make things worth it.
They rounded a corner, and there he was. Sure, he was a blur in her gaze, but the way he threw his head back and laughed? That blob was definitely Asher. She knew that laugh. She knew everything about the guy, from his favorite foods to his favorite music to the time that his ex, Donna, gave him underwear for Christmas. Some people obsessed over science, or gambling. Greer obsessed over Asher Sutton.
She had ever since she started college. She’d moved to New York City to attend NYU, but her father didn’t want her to live in a dorm. So she’d gotten an apartment close to campus and while it was nice, it was also lonely. Greer didn’t make friends easily, and classes were so large that she didn’t feel comfortable speaking up. So she’d put up an ad for roommates. It wasn’t that she needed the money; she had a trust fund. She wanted the company.
Gretchen had been the first to answer the call for a roommate, and then Chelsea. Both were so bubbly and fun that life in New York City was suddenly no longer scary and friendless. She had people now. Taylor showed up a short time later, and was the enthusiastic computer nerd of their group, and their apartment was full. There was one bedroom left but they’d decided to keep that for storage or visitors . . . until Asher knocked on the door one day.
Barely eighteen-year-old Greer had taken one look at him and fallen in love. He was handsome, cheerful, witty, and talked to her like she was a person. She found herself offering him the last room before she even had a chance to discuss it with her other roomies. She knew from the moment she saw him that this was the man she was destined to marry.
It wasn’t until he moved in that she learned about his childhood sweetheart, Donna. She’d been devastated, but determined to love him from afar. It was clear that Asher was devoted to Donna, and wasn’t there something to be said for a guy that had been with the same girl since he was fifteen? He was loyal and devoted. Donna was a bit of a flake, but if Asher loved her, there had to be something worth seeing, so Greer had liked her, too.
Until two years ago.
Male laughter made Taylor jump, and the spangles on Greer’s dress clacked wildly. “Off in that corner,” Taylor said, stopping in her tracks. She detangled her arm from Greer’s. “Follow the smell of beer and testosterone.”
“Thanks, Taylor.”
“Good luck.” She didn’t sound very positive. Jeez. Then again, Taylor had always been kind of skittish and uncertain. Greer was neither; she was just . . . overlookable.
She stepped forward, making a beeline for the darkly dressed blur that was Asher. He was gesturing, talking to someone, and a moment later, the nearby men roared with laughter again. They were just having a good time. That was all. Taylor was just being weird about things. Greer smiled and approached, keeping her hands at her side so she didn’t hide the fantastic low cleavage of her dress. If she knew anything about men, it was that they could be diverted from anything with a nice pair of boobs.
As if determined to prove her theory right, Asher paused mid-conversation and stepped to the side, directly in her path. “Greer?”
“Hi, Asher.” Her voice was breathless with excitement. He was here. He was here and he was noticing her. In fact, she was pretty sure he was staring at her, hard.
“You look . . . different.” His voice was low, sexy.
Yes! He was noticing! Oh crap, what should she say to pull him away from the others? He had a mask slung in one hand and a drink in the other. “What’s your costume?”
“Pimp daddy,” one guy said, and the men around him guffawed.
Asher turned away from Greer and slugged a guy in the shoulder. “Fuck off, guys. This is Greer. She’s like a little sister to me.”
Her nostrils flared with irritation. Little sister? Really? Did he not see her tits hanging out of this fucking skimpy dress? But then the men started laughing and talking over each other all at once, and she nearly screamed with frustration. She needed to get him away from the group of ex–frat boys if she was ever going to get a word in edgewise. Time to use her nonexistent wiles.