Chapter 7 Scarlett
SCARLETT
“Holy smokes,” Dakota said, watching Jace amble to the end of the bar and toss his two fingers in the air to signal the bartender, the movement making his shirt pull across his broad shoulders. “Who’s the sex on stilts?”
“We should leave,” I announced.
“What?” She balked. “Why?”
“Because Sex on Stilts just read our secret revenge list, and I don’t care to be in the same room as someone who has evidence of my newfound evilness.” I tried to shrink behind my glass, which was particularly difficult, given that I could feel his gaze burning into me from across the room.
“You’re not evil.”
The hottest guy in human history thinks I’m evil. And I was being evil. Maybe I had a good reason to, but fantasizing over hurting someone? What lows had I sunk to, and why, why, why did Ear Sex/Sex on Stilts have to see it?
“And that little interaction you just had didn’t look like a guy repulsed by you.” Dakota’s eyebrows performed an elaborate dance of suggestion. “In fact …”
The bartender appeared in front of him with a fresh drink. Something amber in a glass with ice cubes, and then, to my horror, Jace pointed in our direction. My pulse quickened as Sex on Stilts smiled (dear God, that smile) and pushed his credit card across the bar.
“He’s buying you a drink,” Dakota announced with unholy elation.
“How do you know it’s for me?”
“Because he hasn’t taken his eyes off you since I exited the bathroom. Trust me, I’ve been watching.”
Sure enough, the bartender approached us with two fresh drinks. “Compliments of the gentleman at the end of the bar.”
She gave me some sort of victorious smirk.
I knew that smirk all too well; it was the one that appeared right before Dakota started plotting, and Dakota was nothing if not the queen of fun.
It was one of the things I envied about her; she never took herself too seriously while I, on the other hand, liked to plan life out in multistep road maps.
“See? I told you! He bought you a drink, and he’s totally staring at you. Go over there,” she pressed.
“Did you not hear the part where he read the list?” I repeated. “You know, the one that included things like shoving an ice pick into someone’s balls? Of course he’s staring at me. He probably thinks I’m a freak.”
“If he does, a freak is what he wants, based on the way he’s smoldering at you. You should go over there and talk to him.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Why? Based on your body language, you totally looked into him,” she challenged.
“I’m not into him.”
As if to call my bluff, he rolled up his sleeves, revealing tanned forearms. Damn it.
“Liar.” Her voice dropped into her I know you better than you know yourself tone. “You know, it’s okay to have fun sometimes, Scar.”
“I have fun,” I retorted.
“When’s the last time you did something impulsive?”
“Saturday. I bought that new purse. Didn’t even do any research ahead of time or anything.”
She rolled her eyes. “Go have that drink with him.”
“I’m not interested in getting into a relationship.
” My fingers tightened around my glass as memories of my last relationship surfaced.
“In case you forgot, I tried having a boyfriend once. Reluctantly and against every screaming instinct I had.” When you grew up with a father like mine, you didn’t exactly have optimistic expectations of the male species.
“And the only thing that got me was a thorough reminder of why I should’ve trusted my gut.
Three months of manipulation and control later, I swore boyfriends off.
Forever.” Who needed that? Certainly not me and certainly not now, with my career hanging by a thread.
“So, you want to be celibate for the rest of your life?” Dakota leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Never want to feel a man’s kiss again? Never want to feel his hands on your body? Or feel the heat of him on top of you?”
Heat flooded my cheeks. “Why did you have to put it that way?” My vibrator was probably threatening a strike from overuse, and sure, it did the job, but not like a man could. My inner thighs quivered to bring home the point.
She chuckled. “You don’t have to marry the guy. Just have a drink with him and see where it goes. If he’s interested in relationships, then you just be honest, but, Scar, for God’s sake, you think some hot guy wouldn’t be okay with a casual night?”
“You’re talking like we’d have sex.”
“I’m just … covering all the possible bases.”
“Sure you are.”
And now she’d put those naughty bases all up in my head. I wonder what he looks like without a shirt.
“Look, you were just saying how you’ve given everything to your career,” she pushed. “You haven’t had a date in forever. Now’s your chance. Let loose. Because come Monday morning, you’ll turn into a pumpkin with a bucket of stressful career problems.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
“I’m just saying, let your hair down.”
I eyed him in all his glory, trying to hold on to my thread of resistance. I didn’t normally throw caution to the wind, but, hell, he wasn’t just wind. He was a tornado, ripping all my logic and reasons up from the floor. It was like some kind of polar vortex or something.
A group of women in cocktail dresses sashayed past him, their heads turning in perfect synchronization to eye our mysterious stranger. One of them, a leggy blonde, actually stopped walking.
“You need to take him up on his offer before it’s too late,” Dakota warned, nodding toward the blonde, who was now “accidentally” dropping her clutch near his seat.
“Look at this place. Every single woman here is eyeing him like he’s the answer to all their prayers.
Right now, he only has eyes for you, but if you don’t make a move soon, someone else might win his attention.
Or he might leave, and you’ll never see him again. ”
Why did that thought make my ribs tighten?
I swirled the drink he’d bought me, watching the ice cubes clink against the glass.
Anything to avoid looking directly at him, though I could feel the weight of his gaze.
In my peripheral vision, I could see the blonde was now perched on the barstool next to him, but I noticed his body was still angled in our direction.
“I have more important things to focus on right now,” I decided. “Namely, salvaging my promotion and my career.”
“Which you can do starting Monday morning. For the weekend? You deserve to let loose and forget about all this bullshit.” She paused, watching as the blonde tried, and failed, to capture his attention.
“Look, here’s all you need to know: He’s hot.
He’s into you. He bought you a drink. You need something to take your mind off your career crisis.
” She spread her hands wide. “Do you not see how perfect this is? Plus, I know you. You’re not trying to convince me that spending time with him is a bad idea. You’re trying to convince yourself.”
Fine, I was totally imagining things I shouldn’t be imagining shortly after meeting him. Dare I say, I was intrigued by the idea. But this wasn’t me. I was in control. Thoughtful before my moves. And, hello, I had a no-men rule.
“I think we should finish this drink and go,” I decided, even as my traitor heart skipped when I caught him checking me out again in the mirror behind the bar.
“Not happening.” To my horror, Dakota stopped trying to convince me and started heading right for our witness.
“Dakota! What the hell are you doing?”
She turned around, holding still for a second as she explained, “If you go home tonight, you’re going to spin yourself into an anxiety attack over all this. You need to take your mind off it.”
“I did. I am.” My panicked eyes darted to Sex on Stilts who, yep, was most definitely looking straight at me now. More accurately, his gaze was darting between me and the woman I was whisper-yelling at. The blonde beside him was mid-story, but he wasn’t even pretending to listen.
But did Dakota listen to me to stop? No. No, she did not.
She stormed right over to him.