Rihaan #2
The women I'd met had always known the score. No false promises. No lingering expectations. A great night if they’re lucky, a silent understanding of leaving without the awkward and polite goodbyes, and everyone walked away with exactly what they'd signed up for.
It was uncomplicated, and that was precisely how I liked it.
Or at least, that was what I had always told myself.
My attention caught on two women a little farther down the counter, their heads bent together in what looked like an animated conversation.
The brunette, her hair cropped short, listened with a soft, easy smile, while the blonde laughed, bright and unrestrained.
From where I stood, I could only see the back of the blonde’s head, a few hair strands gathered with a small burgundy bow, yet somehow she held all of my attention.
I couldn’t explain why my eyes settled on her instead of wandering elsewhere.
I couldn't even see her face. Still, her laughter once again carried effortlessly at whatever her friend had replied, over the low thrum of conversation and the steady pulse of bass, tugging at something inside me.
My heart gave an unexpected jolt, as though an invisible thread had hooked itself around my ribs and was drawing me toward her before I had the chance to resist.
The feeling was such a stranger to me that its unfamiliar rhythm threatened to unsteady my footing, even as something quieter settled deep within me.
I found myself wanting to know who she was before I wondered what her name sounded like on my tongue.
For the first time in a long while, curiosity reached me before desire, and I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that.
Before I realised what I was doing, my feet were already carrying me in her direction.
Every sensible thought that should have stopped me never even dared to arrive.
I simply wanted to know the woman behind the burgundy bow and, as if the universe had decided to indulge me for once, her friend glanced at her phone, said something that drew a nod from the blonde, and slipped away through the crowd.
A quiet, almost ridiculous sense of relief unfurled in my chest.
As if sensing my presence, her head turned in my direction, and the moment our eyes met, it felt as though magnets had snapped into place, drawing us together with effortless certainty.
For a moment, everything else blurred at the edges of the room.
The noise, the crowd, even the steady pulse of music faded into something distant and unimportant.
I was caught—completely, stupidly caught—on the way she held my gaze like she wasn’t the least bit surprised I was there, only a stark of curiosity in her eyes that only pulled me closer.
“Your friend has impeccable timing,” I said, resting a forearm against the bar. “Should I thank her for leaving, or would that be terrible of me?”
Something sparked in her eye, and I could see that curiosity dimming in her eye. “Not if that’s the best you’ve got.”
A grin tugged at the corner of my lips at her bluntness, one brow lifting in quiet amusement. My heart thudded against my ribs at the sound of her voice, and in that moment, every part of me wondered what my name would sound like on her lips, just once.
“Fair enough,” I conceded. “Let's try this again. What's your drink of choice?”
Her eyes followed my trace, noticing the bartender nearing us. “Spicy Margarita.”
“Tequila girl.” I echoed like she’d confirmed a suspicion, a grin tugging at the corner of my mouth.
When her eyes flickered with that earlier curiosity again, I raked my mind for something worthwhile.
Enough to tell her that I’d rather feed it, than try to chat her up with some rehearsed lines.
“Random fact. True tequila can only be made from blue Weber agave, which must be produced in specific regions of Mexico.
It's basically protected the same way champagne is.”
She blinked, tilting her head as amusement took over her expressions. “Is that actually true, or are you taking the piss?”
“Look it up,” I shrugged, holding back the laugh that threatened to burst as she pulled out her phone to do just that.
Leaning forward, I ordered her drink, Spicy Margarita, taking a shot as I asked for an extra spicy one while getting a rum and coke for myself.
I’d planned on getting a Bourbon when I’d first found my way to the bar, but there was a part of me that no longer wanted to drown myself in alcohol.
“So, what’s the verdict?” I asked, leaning sideways as I watched her rummage through her screen, her gaze laser focused on the contents.
“You’re right,” She nodded, her eyes lit up in a way that had my heart bursting. Before I could figure out what the fuck was happening to me, she continued. “Did you also know that you can turn Tequila into diamonds?”
Ignoring the voice that jumped up and screamed in agreement, I shook my head.
Purely, because I wanted to make sure nothing would diminish that look of excitement on her face.
The one that said she’d just learnt a new fact, because something in her voice was clear as day that she enjoyed doing that.
“Are we talking giant rocks or tiny pebbles?” I instead asked, giving the bartender a nod as he placed our drinks next to us. With her eyes back on her phone, I pulled our drinks closer making sure it was out of any strangers reach. There was no harm in being safer.
“Definitely pebbles,” She replied, her gaze fixed on her screen.
“There’s a university in Mexico that found out that when put under high temperature, the tequila’s carbon impurities are completely removed and can result into tiny microscopic pure diamonds or small lab grown ones. Oh my god. How cool!”
“Right?” I agreed, offering the drink to her as she turned off her phone and gave me the attention I’d slowly begun to crave.
Her eyes flickered from me to the drink as she caught her lower lip between her teeth, a smile threatening to break free as she studied me for a beat.
“I hate to break it you but you’ve just wasted ￡15,” She replied, hesitation evident in her voice…almost like something had broken up the moment we’d shared.
I tilted my head, understanding her words easily. “Because you think I’ve ordered you a Spicy Margarita and you only like them when they’re extra spicy?”
Her mouth dropped, barely pulling my attention to her lips completely before my amused gaze met hers again.
“How did you know?”
Shrugging, I took a sip of my own drink before replying. “Took a calculated shot.”
A smug feeling settled in me as she took her drink, her eyes settled on me as took a sip, and a slow satisfaction rolled in her.
I knew that feeling well.
“What if you were wrong?” She asked then, her body completely turning into mine.
“I wouldn’t have been,” I replied confidently.
It was a skill I'd honed over the years. Reading people, knowing when to take a calculated shot and when to hold back, had become second nature. It was the same instinct that made me the fastest bowler the country had seen. “But if I had been, the bartender would’ve been making you another drink.”
I knew I’d said exactly the right thing. The slow swallow that followed, and the spark of desire that flared in her eyes, only fed the arrogance I'd earned over the years. A smug grin tugged at my mouth.
“So,” She started, her eyes flickering between my lips and eyes. “Any particular reason why you carry tequila trivia around you?”
“My older brother told it to me years ago,” I lifted a shoulder. “And it’s been just sitting there in my brain, taking valuable space in my brain, ready for this moment.”
A laugh bubbled out of her, and Fuck.
I’d never believed in fate or anything beyond chance and consequence, but if there was anything capable of making a man question his convictions, it was the sound of her laughter.
I found myself still staring at her long after it had faded, as if something in me refused to look away. And she was looking back just the same, caught in that same strange pull neither of us seemed willing to break.
“So, trivia boy,” She tilted her head. “What’s your name?”
Still trapped in a trance, I replied. “Rihaan.”
“Rihaan,” My name had never sounded better before as she tested it out on her lips, her plum lips pulling up further as though she wanted to share the taste of it—and I was goddamn desperate for it too. Stretching her hand, she offered. “Maeve.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Maeve.” Accepting her outstretched hand, a spark buzzed through me at the contact. Gripping it softly, I pulled her closer before she placed other hand on my sternum.
“One question.”
I raised a brow. “What’s up?”
“What do you do?” A frown settled on my brows, but before I could give a voice to my confusion, she continued. “It’s just that I spotted you with Matt earlier—”
“You know Matt?” I asked, hoping that I’d done my best to hide the thrill that shot up through me at the fact that she’d noticed me first.
Maeve gave me a hesitant nod, her eyes filled with an expectancy. “I met him at one of my brother’s events.”
Her brows raised. “Your brother is in sports?”
“One of them is, yeah.” I replied easily.
“Are you in sports?”
Hesitation rippled through me as my own words from earlier echoed in my head.
Tonight I just wanted to be another guy.
Before I could overthink it, I found myself shaking my head.
The change in her was instant. Her shoulders relaxed, and a smile ghosted across her lips. And before I could take it back and offer her the truth instead, the hand resting against my chest slid slowly to the back of my neck, her fingers threading into my hair as she gently drew me down to her.
Our lips met, and every coherent thought abandoned me.
It wasn't just a kiss. It was the kind that stole the air from my lungs and made the noise of everything around us dissolve into the background until she was the only thing left in my world.