Chapter 7
7
ZARA
I stare at the stranger in front of me, mesmerized by his blue eyes. I’ve never seen a T-shirt hug a man’s chest like this one does. I have to wonder if it was custom made for him, but then I want to laugh at myself for such a dumb question. Obviously, he didn’t custom make this T-shirt. He just fills it out better than any other man I’ve known in my whole life. He stretches his arms out to the sides, putting them on the bar. His biceps that I thought were big when he was pouring my drink are now even bigger up close. My eyes drink him in, like he’s the last man I’m going to see stand, and if that is the case, it’s not a bad sight to see. “To bad choices,” he repeats the words I’ve just said.
“Well, it doesn’t count if you aren’t going to toast with me,” I tease, hoping that what I’m doing is flirting, but not really sure if I’m doing it right. I can’t even remember when the last time I flirted was. I met Daniel at a coffee shop when he took the last muffin and then gave it to me, only if I gave him my number. What comes next, I’m not even sure.
“I don’t usually drink.” His tone comes out with a hint of country, and my stomach gets flutters, or maybe it’s because it knows I’m about to drink something that is going to burn like a motherfucker.
I look at my hand hanging up in the air, suspended. “I don’t usually go into bars alone to drink my sorrows away,” I say, “yet here I am.”
We stare at each other for a good full minute, or maybe it’s three seconds, before he chuckles and shakes his head. When he turns to walk back down the bar, I take a moment to check out his ass. The minute he looks back over at me, I swing my head to look in front of me, my cheeks getting really hot from being caught checking him out. He comes back over, a smirk on his gorgeous face, holding a shot glass. Unlike me, he can take his drink neat. “To you making bad choices.” He holds it out in front of him, and I move my hand closer to his and clink my glass to his. He downs the shot, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as I bring the glass to my lips and take down a gulp, the burn hitting me right away. I want to cough, but I hold it in . Be cool is the only thing I can think of. However, if I was with my cousins and not in front of a totally hot stranger, I would cough up a lung and vow never to drink that again.
“Smooth,” I comment, not breathing, making him laugh. A piece of his hair falls onto his forehead, and my hand itches to reach out and push it back. “Really smooth.”
“I’ll be back,” he says, walking down to the other end of the bar. I take another sip of the whiskey. This time, it doesn’t burn as much, or maybe my throat is numb. I pick up my phone and see Zoey has texted me three times.
Zoey: Did you leave?
Zoey: Where are you?
Zoey: Have you been kidnapped?
I laugh as I type back.
Me: I’m at the bar having what I think is Jim or Jack.
I take another sip, and this time, it’s even better.
Zoey: Who? What?
Me: This is what he recommended to me to take my mind off whatever.
Zoey: Oh my God, he probably slipped something in it.
I snort before taking another sip.
Me: You need to stop listening to Uncle Matthew.
I’m looking at my phone but then see movement at the side. I look up to see him coming to stand in front of me. “Do you want some water with that?”
“So you know the rule also?” I ask him, and he tilts his head to the side. “One glass of booze, one glass of water.” He looks at me, unsure of what I’m saying. “It’s to offset the booze.”
“I have heard that before.” He smirks before bending down and opening something and putting a bottle of water in front of me.
“Are you from here?” I ask, trying to make small talk while I sip my whiskey.
“I am,” he confirms. “Are you?” He raises his eyebrows.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m just passing through.”
“Really?” He puts his hands on the bar. “I take it you are riding solo.”
“Yup,” I say, expecting to be sad about it, but ever since two days ago, whenever I think of Daniel and this fucking situation, I get pissed. Fuck him for doing this to me. “I’m riding solo.” I finish the whiskey, and the heat from the alcohol is making it a bit too hot, so I shrug off my jacket. “I’ll take another one, Mr. Bartender,” I tell him, holding up the empty glass.
“Gabriel,” he supplies his name to me, grabbing my glass and walking over to pour me another one.
“Gabriel,” I whisper his name before he comes back, putting it down in front of me. “Thank you, Gabriel,” I say his name out loud. It feels like I’ve been saying his name for years instead of just now.
“You are most welcome…” His voice trails off, and I throw my head back and laugh.
“Zara.” I say my name.
“You are most welcome, Zara,” he says, turning back and walking to the end of the bar to take an order. I take my time with the second glass, drinking it slower. My mind is doing the stupid thing where it replays my life for the past three years, highlighting all the signs I should have seen, and probably did see, but was too scared to do anything about.
“Can I have another?” I ask him when he walks past me to grab something. I don’t know why I’m hoping he’ll stay and talk to me, but instead he just nods and moves on, placing the drink on the coaster in front of me. I spin the glass in front of me, taking little sips each time, now wondering what the fuck I’m going to do with everything back home.
“How are you doing over here?” I look up to see Gabriel in front of me. “We are doing last call.”
I look around and see there is literally no one left in the bar area. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry. I should let you close up.” So much for flirting. Instead, I was drowning my sorrows at a bar in the middle of nowhere.
“How are you getting home?” he asks, and I look down and see that I finished two more glasses. I know full well that I’m not going to be able to drive fucking anywhere.
“I’m going to Uber.” I grab my phone and pull up the app.
His laughter booms out. “Uber?” he questions. “Here?”
“Well, I’m assuming it’s everywhere.” I look back down and see the notice that says no cars available in your area. Please sign up to get notifications if they become available. “Oh my God, literally no cars available.” I laugh.
“I can drive you home,” he offers.
“You don’t have to do that.” I push away from the bar, taking a step off the stool and swaying just a bit. “I can also walk.”
He looks at me, and again the only thing that comes to my head is, damn, he’s hot . “Do you know what my parents would do to me if I let you walk home alone in the dark?” he asks, and I just shake my head, grabbing my jacket in one hand.
“Fine,” I huff, trying to put my hand through the jacket sleeve but missing it twice before finally getting it in, “but only if you promise not to take me somewhere and kill me.”
He smirks, making my knees fucking weak. “Scout’s honor.” He holds up two fingers on one hand.
“You’re a Boy Scout?” I ask him as he walks around the bar to stand in front of me. I watch him and take in his cowboy boots. He is a head taller than me, so he has to look down at me.
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “My truck is out that way.” He points behind him, where it leads to the dark hallway.
“I mean, if that doesn’t scream danger and don’t go in there,” I say, grabbing my purse, “I don’t know what does.” I tap my jacket pockets to see if I feel my phone. Then I move my hands to my ass before he leans over me, making me smell his muskiness, grabbing my phone from the top of the counter and handing it to me. “Thank you,” I say, wishing I’d drunk some water because with him so close to me, my mouth is very fucking dry. “Lead the way,” I tell him.
“Are you going to be checking me out again?” he asks me over his shoulder, while my eyes roam straight to his ass.
“Um, yes.” I shock even myself when I admit it, and I even giggle a little bit. “Yes. Yes, I will.”
He walks in front of me, but his steps slow, and he waits for me when he gets to the entrance of the hallway. “The mouth of the dungeon.” I stop beside him and notice the hallway isn’t as dark as it seemed from my stool.
He walks two steps into the dimly lit hallway, stopping at a closed door with a plaque in the middle that says “Office.” My feet move with his, and when he stops, I’m literally chest to chest with him. “I have to get my keys,” he informs me but doesn’t move.
“Do you want me to wait here?” I ask. Feeling his heat radiating off his body, I lift my hand to touch his chest. My hand shakes when I do that; he can see it shake.
“On a scale of one to ten—” he says, and he’s so close I can feel his breath on me. My chest moves up and down as my fingers tingle on his pecs.
“Ten,” I answer, not knowing what the rest of the question is.
“How drunk are you?” The question makes me laugh.
“Oh.” I shake my head. “Two.” I lift my hand from his hard chest but quickly move it back. “Maybe three. Definitely not a four.”
“What did you think I was going to ask you?” His hands come up to hold my hips, and I hate it’s not brighter so I can see his eyes.
“I thought you were going to ask me on a scale of one to ten, how much do you want me to kiss you right now?” I want to kick my own ass for admitting that. What the hell was in that drink, truth serum?
“And you answered ten, Zara?” The softness of his voice makes shivers run through me.
“I did, Gabriel.” I use his name, taking a step closer to him, squishing my hand between us. “I sure did.”
“Well, then,” he says, and his hands fly from my hips to my face right before his lips crash onto mine. My tongue comes out to taste his, and my jacket is tossed on the floor. My purse joins it with a thump right next to my foot. As I wrap my hands around his neck, my chest goes flush with his. His hands drop from my face as he wraps one arm around my waist, while the other reaches behind him, opening the door. The kiss that started out a little slow is now setting off fireworks inside me. I’ve never had a kiss like this. Never been kissed breathless before. He picks me up off my feet, and I moan into his mouth as he kicks the door closed with his foot.
He lets go of my lips to drag the kiss down to my neck. “Definitely a good decision.” I close my eyes and go with it, throwing caution to the fucking wind.