13. Connor
Ican’t even explain what happened, but the minute I saw him walk over to her, I knew he was going to be trouble. All the signs were there; popped shirt collar, puka shell necklace, zero spatial awareness. I’m not sure if a recent divorce or an old frat reunion was the reason for his wardrobe choice, but he was clearly trying to relive his youth with the help of a Mr. Jim Beam.
We were all watching her like a hawk, Chris and Scott trading glances when he approached the table, and then both of them looking at me. Scott sings like shit, he’ll go over there, was the mental vibe we all seemed to agree on.
But the second I saw him nuzzle her neck, my legs moved independently of my brain, and the next thing I knew, I was spinning him away from her.
When he tried to yank her away from the table, my fist almost moved independently of my brain, too, but I saw Cruz making his way over so I decided not to channel my inner Road House.
I’m not going to dwell too long on the look of relief that came over her or how it feels to be the reason for her grateful gaze right now.
“Who the fuck was that guy?” Scott rumbles.
Jess and I are still staring at each other until she shakes it off. “Oh, god. No one. Just a guy who had too much to drink.”
We all pull out our chairs and sit at the table, again exchanging glances, and the unspoken-but-understood decision: At least one of us stays here at all times.
“I dunno, sis, you’re just drawing them in,” Scott jokes, I assume in an effort to snap himself out of Terminator Mode.
“Like moths to a flame,” Chris agrees.
Jess laughs. “I’m pretty sure he was one beer away from hitting on the payphone by the restrooms, guys, but thanks.”
“Don’t do that,” Chris chastises at the same time Scott asks, “there are still payphones around here?”
Jess zeroes in on my brother. “Don’t do what?”
“Sell yourself short,” he says.
She rolls her eyes. “Well, I do look best in dim lighting through beer goggles.”
“That’s bullshit,” I blurt out. Everyone stops and looks at me. I shake my head. “There’s a guy at the bar who’s been scoping you out since we walked in, the dude at the table in the corner over there keeps looking over his buddy’s shoulder to try to catch your eye, and I’m pretty sure the couple by the pool tables wants to invite you into their bedroom later. You’re an alluring woman in any circumstance, Jess, it’s just a fact.”
Apparently nothing in my brain is operating normally tonight, but like any good negotiation, I don’t let my outward expression show how nervous I am to have said any of that out loud. But seriously, how can she not see what I see? What everyone sees?
All three of them are slack-jawed now, but I remain silent. My point has been made.
“Hell. Yes.” This from Scott. “Connor, you’ve got to come out more, man. That was amazing.”
“To my little brother,” Chris raises his water glass and we all follow. We haven’t even had time to order our beers yet. “Jess, he is a smart man and you should definitely listen to him. Also,” he continues, “Maybe don’t be so picky. You don’t know, Puka Shells was a total dreamboat. He could have been ‘the one.’”
She laughs and we clink our glasses. “Sorry to break it to you, boys, but I already found the one,” she says.
My heart drops. Oh god, is it me? That might be awkward. Or is it someone else we don’t even know about? That feels worse for some reason.
“Don’t keep us in suspense, now,” Scott laughs.
She shrugs her shoulders. “It’s me,” she says simply.
We all start clapping for her and she bows theatrically.
I immediately feel ridiculous for even thinking she would mean anyone else. It definitely wouldn’t be me, where did that even come from? Am I interested? I mean, she’s objectively pretty and easily the most magnetic person I know, but that doesn’t mean I should date her.
Does it?
I bury that line of thought deep and am rewarded instead with a truly memorable night. In fact, I have so much fun that I only check my emails twice and I don’t even remember to set a reminder to text Lisa in the morning about the Kensington Sons account. Nights like these must be what Atticus was talking about.
He’s right, I need more of them. It’ll require some minor adjustments to the timeline, but I can probably work a few of them in after I go back to work. And since my brain is apparently telling me that my body is looking for some companionship, I’ll need to land this deal fast so I can move the “dating” segment up the checklist. No big deal, just a few little tweaks.