Chapter 10 #3
By my count, he has had more than a couple, but I’m not calling him out on it if he’s having fun. He could stand to have more fun.
Farrah approaches the table again and asks, “May I pour you another glass of champagne?”
“No, thank you. None for me.” I cover my flute with my hand and shake my head.
“What about something from the bar?” she suggests.
“Oh, I would love a cherry margarita with extra cherries, please.” Turning to Ryan, I ask, “What do you think, Pretty Boy? Do you want to do a shot with me?”
He hesitates briefly before saying, “One.” He holds up a finger. “I’ll do one shot.”
“Yeah,”—I dance in my seat—“Ryan’s going to get messy with me.”
“Settle down, Trouble. I said I would have one.”
Turning back to Farrah, I say, “Can you bring over a bottle of tequila, salt and limes, and four shot glasses as well, please?” April and Vaughan will be back at the table soon. I may as well get enough for all of us.
“Do you have a preference as to what kind of tequila?” she asks, looking between Ryan and me.
I glance to Ryan for the answer. I don’t know; we drink whatever Bob is serving back home.
“Gran Patron Platinum would be great. Thank you, Farrah.” He gives her a megawatt smile, and I feel a twinge of jealousy. I want to be on the receiving end of those dimples.
Farrah blushes and says, “Right away, sir.” We watch as she spins and rushes towards the bar.
“You have a new fan,” I mutter, reaching for my tumbler of whiskey, taking a sip. The taste is rich and smoky, with hints of vanilla and spice. As I swallow, the heat smooths out, spreading warmth throughout my body.
His eyes drop to my mouth, and he tracks my tongue as it sweeps along my bottom lip. Clearing his throat, he looks away.
“Did you have time to pick up Nana’s car today?” he asks, raising his own glass and bringing it to his lips.
“Carson dropped it off at the studio this afternoon. The tank is full of gas, and he has already paid the insurance for the year. You don’t know what a relief it is not to have to worry about finding a new car.
Dillon even did a safety check on it, so hopefully you won’t have to rescue me on the side of the road again anytime soon. ”
A piece of his hair has fallen over his forehead, and I resist the urge to push it back in place.
“I’m glad it’s all working out,” he says.
Farrah returns to the table with my margarita and the tequila. Ignoring me, she beams at Ryan as she fills all four shot glasses and slides one towards him. “Can I get you anything else, Mr. Sampson? Mr. Sinclair told me to take good care of you this evening.”
“No, that will be all, thank you,” he says, dismissing her as he raises his whiskey glass to his mouth.
“I’ll check back with you soon in case you change your mind,” she says, turning from the table, sashaying away with a deliberate sway of her hips.
“I bet she would drop to her knees and blow you under the table if you asked.”
He chokes on his whiskey, coughing loud enough to make me turn towards him. Patting his back, I try not to smile as he catches his breath.
“Jesus, Beck, where the fuck did that come from?”
“What? You didn’t see the way she was looking at you?”
When he furrows his eyebrows in confusion, I mock her in a syrupy-sweet voice. “Yes, Mr. Sampson, anything you need, Mr. Sampson, I’ll take good care of you, Mr. Sampson. Let me swallow your cock, Mr. Sampson. Give me a break; she is totally flirting with you.”
“Are you jealous?” he scoffs, sliding a shot glass towards me.
“I’m not jealous.” I roll my eyes, dismissing his accusation. “But she doesn’t know who I am. I could be your wife, and she was hitting on you right in front of me.”
“You sound jealous.” His smirk turns into a full-blown smile. And there are those dimples, and this time they are for me. Woah.
“Don’t be silly,” I say, raising my shot glass and gesturing for him to do the same. “Are you ready?”
“Just one,” he says, raising his own and tapping it on mine.
“Only one,” I repeat. “Ready.”
“Always.” We clink glasses and knock back the tequila in one smooth motion, slamming our glasses down on the table and laughing together as the burn settles in.
I grab a lime wedge from the dish and extend it to him.
Without breaking eye contact, he grasps my wrist and pulls my hand to his mouth.
His gaze never wavering, he licks the lime before biting into it, removing it from my fingers.
The movement is slow and deliberate. My entire body warms, and this time it’s not from the alcohol.
As he lets go of my wrist, I whisper, “Careful. You keep that up, and I’ll think you actually like me.”
“I never said I didn’t like you,” he says, watching me bite into my own lime wedge. “I just need to be careful around you. You’re trouble…a temptation I can’t afford.”
April and Vaughan choose that moment to return to the table, breaking the spell we are under.
“Ooh, tequila,” April says, clapping her hands as they sit down across from us. “Did you start without us?”
“What do you say, Pretty Boy?” I turn slowly and meet Ryan’s stormy blue-grey eyes. “Are you going to show me what you were like in your wilder days?”