The Best Man {h.s.}

2

"That was brilliant," a curly haired guy says to me as he leans his elbows against the bar. I scan him up and down to get a really good look at him. He's in black jeans and a white t-shirt, covered in tattoos and has the brightest green eyes I've ever seen. He looks more out of place in here than I do and I'm slightly intrigued.

"Thanks," I say with a slight chuckle and take a sip of my drink. I don't know what the hell that other guy bought me, but this drink is terrible. I push it away from me and hear him start laughing.

"Not a big fan of amaretto sours?" He asks.

So that's what it is.

I shake my head in disgust. We exchange smiles and he sits down next to me.

"I have to admit, I almost didn't come over here for fear of you kicking my ass." He smirks.

I start laughing and look up at him.

Those dimples. That accent. Ugh.

"Well, the night isn't over yet." The smiling continues and I rethink dragging Ava out of here.

"Harry." He holds out his hand.

"Emma." I return the handshake as I stare at him for longer than I should.

I feel someone grab my other hand, breaking my stare and causing me to whip my head around.

Ava. She's hammered.

"Who's he?" She whispers way too loudly. She holds on to my arm, stabling herself as she makes her way over to Harry. He chuckles as he grabs her arm.

"I'm Harry," he says as he looks down at her. Ava's smile widens and she leans over to me.

"He's British!" She tries again to whisper, but it's still not working. He laughs as I look up at him apologetically. Ava glares at me while giving me a thumbs up and stumbles back over to whichever robot was buying her a drink. I turn back around to look at him as he places a shot in front of me. I think for a split second about declining, but what the hell. I'm already half buzzed, what's a few more?

The next thing I know, I'm downing my fifth shot and laughing hysterically about something that I can't quite remember. I'm having way too much fun to even think about how much this is going to suck tomorrow.

My sister, Chloe, is getting married in a month and she's making the whole wedding party meet for some reason. She's got a pretty tight leash on her hubby-to-be, so I'm guessing it's to discuss plans about a joint bachelor/bachelorette party. I'm the maid of honor, so I should probably know these things, but my sister is too much of a perfectionist to let me take control of any planning.

"Where's your friend?" Harry leans down to ask me as I snap out of my thoughts. I turn to look at Ava, but she's nowhere to be found. Gwen and Paige left at some point too and I'm hoping they took Ava with them. She's way too drunk to be roaming around by herself. But, then again, so am I, and yet here I sit with someone I just met two hours ago. I reach for my phone to send her a text, but the screen stays black no matter which button I push.

Shit.

"I don't know. My phone's dead." I look up at him, slightly worried, but too drunk to be fully worried. I sit for a second to think about my next move, then I lean forward to search for the bartender. One more shot won't kill me.

"Easy, killer. I don't know if that's the best idea," Harry says to me as he gently pushes down on my shoulders.

I sit back down and let out a sigh. Harry chuckles, stands up and holds out his hand.

"Well, since your friend left you I guess it's my job to get you home safely."

I think for a second about declining his offer, but this is Philadelphia. I wouldn't walk around alone sober, let alone drunk as a skunk.

I stand up, take his hand and follow him out of the bar.

As we're walking out, I sense that someone is looking at me. As I turn my head, I see Mr. Touchy-feely staring at me in complete shock. I'm guessing he doesn't get turned down often, so seeing the girl who denied him and nearly broke his finger leaving with someone else is probably something he will need to recover from. I shoot him a smirk and keep walking with Harry's hand in mine.

We step out onto the busy sidewalk and a wave of cold rushes through me, nearly knocking me over. It's summer, so it's not freezing, but compared to the sweaty inferno that I was just in, it's like I'm at the North Pole. Harry squeezes my hand tighter to keep me from falling over and looks down at me.

"So, where are we going?" He asks.

I try to speak, but nothing comes out. I can't tell if it's because I'm fucking freezing or if the booze is stopping me, but I lift my hand up and point to the right. Thankfully I'm only two blocks away from the bar. If it were any farther he would have to carry me home. With a few more hand signals directing our way, we finally reach my building. I stumble up to the door, fumble with my keys a bit, but eventually unlock the door and make my way up the stairs.

I knew someday I would regret living on the fifth floor.

Harry walks behind me, keeping me from falling backwards. I don't know why, but the stairs seemed to have multiplied.

Oh, I know why. Fucking whiskey.

After a few trips up the steps and a few more giggles, I eventually make it to my door. I turn around to look back at Harry as I seem him trying to keep from laughing. I don't know what's so funny, but I could stare at that smile all day.

"Well, Emma, it was great meeting you." He smiles one more time and leans in to kiss me on the cheek. I stand there like a stone and close my eyes, fully embracing his closeness.

He turns around to leave and slowly starts letting go of my hand. Before I can even process what the hell I'm doing, my hand pulls him back and my lips meet his.