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“I’m perfectly capable,” I murmur.
Clark puts a hand on my bicep. “You’re drunk, Len.”
“So?”
He leans over. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”
I sit back, deflated, the area behind my eyes heating. “Sorry.”
“Hey,” Adam’s snap of a voice sounds from across the table. “She’s not embarrassing.”
Next to me, Clark stills. He waves his hand dismissively in the hockey player’s direction, and I watch as Adam’s eyes turn cold.
Clark leans in closer so he can speak into my ear. “You were all over him.”
“I…” Swallowing, I stop there. Maybe I was all over him. It certainly felt like it. I should probably apologize. “We’re just friends.”
“Are you sure about that?”
My answer, “Positively,” is shadowed by Adam jumping to his feet.
He eyes us, jaw working. “She’s fine.”
Clark sighs. “You don’t know her.”
Adam’s hands clench at his sides, and for a moment, I think we might have an issue, but then he pulls out his phone and turns his back, walking a few feet away.
How fucking embarrassing. Maybe I was acting stupid? Then Clark calling me out was even worse.
I turn toward him. “Are you going to dance with me?”
“With your instability?” he scoffs. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“But you wouldn’t dance with me when I was sober either.”
“Why are you being combative? It’s hard for me to dance when I don’t drink, and I have to drive us home.”
He’s right. I’m drunk and he can’t let loose with me because he’s being responsible. “I was celebrating,” I explain, less bitchy now.
“I know,” he says, patting my back. “The article was great. The poll, your resolution, it was fantastic, Len. You should be proud of yourself. Maybe, you know, you went a little too hard. You’re not used to drinking, right?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s okay.” He moves my head to his shoulder, and I take a deep breath. My body is jumpy, like it doesn’t want to sit still. It wants to do the first thing that pops into my head. It wants to say the first thing that dangles on the tip of my tongue.
I probably have been acting strangely. Freer than I normally do, so I should rein it in.
Adam comes back to the table holding his hand out. “Want to dance, Len?”
“I’m acting strange, I can’t.”
He gives me a weird look. “You’re one hundred percent fine. I want to see those moves.”
Clark pats my shoulder. “Actually, we’re going to head out.”
I sit up. “We are? I was having fun.”
He gives me a hard stare, and I shut my mouth.