“Oh, please,” Ivy counters. “You pretend you suck at baking so you don’t have to cook for family holidays.”

Fi sniffs, looking guilty as hell. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ivy leans in, her eyes narrowed. “Midnight cookie baking ring a bell, Tink?”

Fi’s cheeks flush, and she studies her nails with undue interest while muttering something about traitor sisters under her breath. “Those are for PMS cravings and nothing more. I was baking under duress.”

“Right then,” Gray says, smart enough to interrupt before they can go down the dark road that is discussion of their periods. “We’re going to do a duet, Mac.”

Ivy bounces up. “I get to pick the song!”

She runs off, and Gray shoots out of his seat. “No chance in hell, Ivy Mac. Mac!”

Fi rolls her eyes. “She’s going to go all Beyoncé-Jay Z on him.”

I laugh hard at the thought of them singing “Drunk in Love.” “I’m filming the whole thing.” I pull out my phone and get it ready.

They don’t sing “Drunk in Love.” It’s worse. Much, much worse. Or maybe equally horrific.

“Oh. My. God.” Fi’s eyes go wide before she bursts out laughing.

Gray and Ivy have decided on “You’re the One That I Want” from Grease. Oh, they own it, belting out the lyrics just slightly off-key—well, completely off-key in Gray’s case—and totally working the crowd, who are all shouting and lifting their phones to film them. It’s clear Gray has been recognized.

But still, it’s terrible.

Fi and I howl with laughter until my sides hurt and I have to gulp down half my bottled water.

“I can’t believe she knew she sucked at dancing,” Fi mutters watching them, a smile still pulling at her lips.

“Well, when you think about it, she’d have to be blind not to know,” I counter. “I mean, the arm flailing alone…” I shudder dramatically, and Fi snickers, just as I’d hoped.

“Watch it,” she says, her gaze on the stage and a smile in her eyes. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.”

“Hey, I love her like a sister too. Does that count?”

Fi turns, and her green eyes hold me captive. “As long as that doesn’t make us like brother and sister.”

I lean in until my lips nearly brush hers. “Not even close, Cherry.” I steal a quick, soft kiss and have the satisfaction of hearing her breath hitch.

My satisfaction grows when I pull back and she gazes up at me with a slightly dazed expression. I run the pad of my thumb over the smooth curve of her lower lip. My groin tightens with heat and want.

“You gonna give me an answer soon?”

Her lashes sweep down, and she reaches for her drink. “We’re out now, right?” Green eyes peer up at me. “This is a double date, isn’t it?”

“Yep.”

Her lips purse like she’s trying not to smile. “Slick.”

“Not really.” I lean closer, pressing my arm against hers. “Look, I know I’m asking you to go out of your comfort zone—”

“Yes, how about that?” Fi counters. “I mean, do you often do the same? Because, from where I sit, you seem to play it safe.”

My brows lift. “I’m pretty sure there’s nothing safe about going after you.”

She smiles, shaking her head. “But you know I’m attracted to you.”

Love hearing that. I sit back and watch Gray get on his knees in a sad John Travolta parody. Running my hand over my beard, I turn back to Fi. “Okay. How about this? I hate being the center of attention. If I get up there and sing my ass off, will you give us a go?”

She laughs. “You’re serious? Are you bribing me for sex?”

“First off, I’m not talking about sex. I’ll never withhold that from you.” I grin, touching my forehead to hers. “We can go home right now and fuck, Cherry, if that’s what you want.”

Hell, tell me that’s what you want. I can take it. I’m a big boy. Part of me is growing bigger by the second at the thought of finally having Fiona.

She goes so pink, I can see it in the dim of the club.

“I’m asking for a relationship,” I say. “Or at least taking a leap of faith.”

Fi looks me over as if she’s trying to figure out if I’m crazy or not.

I let her look, sitting back, my hips low in the seat. Her slow inspection has my skin tingling. I have the mad urge to haul her on my lap and kiss her into compliance, lose myself in that sweet, plump mouth of hers. But I stay still.

“You’re really going to go up there?” She nods toward the stage where Ivy and Gray are now bowing—the hams.

“And sing my ass off,” I add. My gut rolls at the idea of performing in front of all these people. It’s not something I want to do. But I will.

I ignore the small twinge of guilt that follows when she gives me an evil grin. I know she’s looking forward to seeing me make an ass of myself, just as we laughed at Ivy and Gray.

“Before you answer,” I say above the applause that follows our friends’ performance, “I’ll warn you now. I will never lie to you, Fiona. But I don’t intend to fight fair either.”

Her cheeky grin just grows. “Playing me again, are you, Slick?”

“Maybe.”