Spin the Bottle by Rhian Cahill Page B

planet had done. Looked at those glossy prints and thought he could see into her soul. Except he’d already seen Lilli’s soul. He’d watched it blossom from child to teenager to woman and he’d ignored it and superimposed the image of her mother on top.
    He was a fool. The biggest kind. The kind that cuts their nose off in spite of their face. But no more. From now on he wouldn’t fight what he felt, wouldn’t assume anything about her. Wouldn’t let the guilt of falling for his best friend’s sister get in the way either. It might feel like a betrayal of every best-mate code ever thought, uttered or written, but he couldn’t deny what was in his heart.
    Lilli. Now that Mac had opened his eyes he was determined to fix things between them. Only one problem stood in his way. Right now he was probably the last person she wanted to see. Good thing he had a thick skin and over the years of tough business negotiations had learned to hold on until he got what he wanted. Shame he couldn’t have figured out sooner that what he wanted most was right in front of him all along.
     
    Lillian’s feet hurt. Her five-inch heels might be drop-dead sexy, but they were also torture devices designed to make her toes drop off. She headed into the kitchen for a much needed breather. While the party was a huge success and she should be thrilled, she wasn’t. This wasn’t how she pictured it. There was only numbness where euphoria should have been. She’d like to blame Mac. Why not? He’d been a source of misery for most of her life, so why couldn’t he shoulder the blame for this too?
    She slipped out of her shoes and sighed. Curling and uncurling her toes on the cool tiles brought some relief, but it was only temporary. She’d have to slide those damn sandals back on again in a moment and continue to smile while her blood refused to circulate. First thing next week, she was getting a pedicure. The deluxe version. Lil arched her back, stretched muscles sore from walking in heels for hours when in recent months she’d either been barefoot or wearing flip-flops. Maybe she’d spring for a full body massage.
    Her feet protested as she shoved her abused toes into the strappy Jimmy Choo’s. She may have been given the ultra-sexy stilettos after featuring in a shoot for the famous designer, but right now Lil couldn’t think of one good reason why anyone would pay over five hundred dollars for some skinny strips of leather and heels that were thinner than ice picks. How she managed not to break her neck was a testament to her exceptional balance and determination to remain upright.
    Shoes firmly in place, Lil turned to head back into the throng of partygoers when Aaron Watson entered the kitchen. He stumbled towards her and instinct, not any lingering feelings of affection for the man, had her reaching out to support him. His breath reeked of gin and Lil wasn’t at all surprised by his inebriated state. Aaron had a weakness for alcohol. At least that’s the way his doting parents referred to it. As far as Lil was concerned, the man was an alcoholic and needed a ten-step program. But who was she to argue in the man’s favour. He’d lost his last friend credit when she’d been informed he’d leaked the photos of her sunbaking topless last year.
    Aaron flung his arms around her neck and spoke against her cheek. “Is lofe ou.”
    Lil was fairly certain he didn’t know the true meaning of the word love but figured in his small world what he felt for her was real. Not that she had ever returned his feelings. He’d never been more than an acquaintance in her youth, just two kids from families with money, but once she’d started modelling and socialising in a different circle he’d become a trusted friend. Of course, that was before the booby shots. She cringed. They weren’t even flattering pictures.
    “Come on, Aaron, let’s find somewhere for you to lie down before you fall down. And take me with you.” She manoeuvred his