Maggie Louwer loved her birthday. Loved it. Even though she didn't love the number of candles on her cake now that she was no longer considered mid-twenties, she adored having her friends lavish her with attention and being Queen for a Day. (Okay, the week. She loved her birthday.) This year was no exception. She was surrounded, as always, by her two best friends, and this year, her cute boyfriend. (She loved being able to call him that now.)
As was tradition every year on her birthday since they moved to New York, they dressed to the nines and danced the night away. The tunes were old school, Alisha's dress was guaranteed to make Big swallow his tongue, and Russell's Spanish was starting to kick in. And when she felt James wrap his strong arms around her waist and drop a kiss to her shoulder, she thought that this was shaping up to be a birthday she'd never forget.
Alisha fanned her face as she got in the crowded line around the bar. She needed another drink and it was time for the birthday girl to do another shot. When he swaggered up next to her she couldn't stop the eye roll.
"'Sup, Larrington?" he greeted smoothly, a half smile quirking over his lips.
She kept her eyes trained forward. "Big," she said flatly, cursing the absence of fabric on her dress and the heat of his eyes as they raked over her.
"Lookin' good on the dance floor. Though you look even better up close."
"Go be creepy somewhere else," she spat.
"Got your panties in a twist tonight, Shorty?"
She ignored him, moving forward as the line shifted closer to the bar.
Big frowned, not really appreciating the silent treatment. "Hey," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder.
"What?" she asked heatedly. She shrugged off his hand, finally meeting his gaze.
"God, are you still pissed about the other day? Get over it, Larrington. It was funny." He didn't get what the big damn deal was. They were both adults and they were both clearly attracted to each other.
"Is this guy bothering you?" a deep voice asked.
Big turned, ready to tell the guy to mind his own fucking business and scowled when Alisha's face lit up like goddamn fireworks and launched herself into the blonde douchebag's arms.
"Derek! Oh my God!" Alisha squealed as he lifted her off the ground and spun her.
She giggled and flashed the brightest smile he'd ever seen when that fuckstick sat her back down on her feet. Big's scowl grew deeper.
"Hey Gorgeous," Derek grinned, deep dimples flashing along with his brilliant smile.
Big fought off the eye roll. Original nickname, asshole.
Alisha stared up into the crystal blue eyes of Joe Fletcher. If there ever was anyone that could be considered an Adonis, it was this gorgeous man before her. "Joe Fletcher," she smiled. "Long time no see."
Joe Fletcher. Joe Fletcher. Why did that name sound familiar? Oh. Now he remembered. Well, fuck!
"Alisha Larrington—look at you." He gave her a slow once over and a sly grin stretched easily over his face.
Big watched interestedly, waiting for her to light into Derek the way she always did him when he gave her that look. He felt the frown when it didn't happen. Instead, she slapped his shoulder, giggled, and said:
"You're an incorrigible flirt, Derek. Some things never change." She tossed her hair over her shoulder and grinned up at Derek.
"Who are you here with?" he asked, leaning in to be heard over the music.
"It's Maggie's birthday. We're all over there," she said, pointing towards their table. "She'd love to see you."
"Great, let me buy you ladies a drink."
"Don't sweat it, dude, I got this one," Big informed him. Both Alisha and Derek turned to finally acknowledge his presence. Alisha's lips thinned into a tight line whereas Derek smirked in amusement. That prick was about to get his face rearranged.
"Sorry, Lisha. Are you two—" Derek began, gesturing between the two.
"No," Alisha quickly scoffed. "Absolutely not."
The muscles in Big's jaw twitched. Seriously? Fuck this. And fuck her for that matter. He really didn't know why he was bothering in the first place. What he should be doing is what he did best…finding some easy girl that would be more than thrilled to wrap her legs around him and keep him company for a night. Quick and dirty and with far less bitching and fighting than he had to put up with the brunette in front of him. "See ya, Larrington," he bit out gruffly and walked away, leaving her smiling with the walking Abercrombie ad who, according to Alisha herself, was apparently good at plumbing her pipes. Fucking prick.
Alisha frowned at his retreating form, feeling momentarily guilty for being so rude to him, but brushed it aside. Instead, she focused on her old friend as he put a hand on the small of her back and guided her towards the bar.
Later in the evening, Alisha and her two drunk best friends went into the ladies' room. Girls started squealing at first due to Russell's presence.
"Relax, I'm a lady," Russell insisted, pushing his way to the mirrors to check his appearance.
Maggie leaned against the wall while she and Alisha waited for a stall. There were grunts and moans coming from the stall on the end. Alisha and Maggie exchanged glances and snorted out a laugh. "That's disgusting," Maggie giggled.
"Seriously," Alisha agreed, just as the girl in the stall reached her peak and shouted out a string of oh Gods peppered with obscenities. Classy.
The stall opened and the red head, who looked appropriately rode hard and put away wet, emerged, tugging down her
