Chapter 1 #2
I force my gaze up to him and yup, he’s every bit as devastatingly attractive up close. More attractive, honestly. I didn’t realize there were even that many different muscles in a human body.
Trisha kicks me under the table and I realize I’ve been staring at him, wordless, for a solid thirty seconds. Shit. What was the question?
“What would you recommend?” Trisha asks him. “She’s usually a white wine girl but she’s trying to live a little tonight.”
She kicks me again and I know her words were meant more as a reminder to me than anything else. I’m supposed to be trying here. I can hear her words in my head. You deserve to have some fun, Ellie.
The only problem with that is I don’t know how.
I’ve never been good at this—the whole flirting with a stranger thing.
I never needed to. Kevin sought me out, hanging around at the diner when I was waiting tables my senior year of high school.
He was my first real boyfriend and I never had to try to get his attention. He offered it up freely. Aggressively.
That should have been my first warning sign.
We’re not thinking about him tonight, I remind myself.
“Well, let’s see,” Hot Bartender says, crouching down and resting his thick forearms on our table. And, oh, God, those arms. Can arms be beautiful? Because his are. I wonder what they would feel like wrapped around me while—
Focus, Ellie!
“If you liked that Chardonnay,” he gestures at my half-filled glass, “you might like a white sangria. It’s basically wine, fruit, and a little brandy.” He gives me the sexiest little grin. “Or a gin drink, if you want to get a bit crazier.”
“Oh, she definitely wants to get crazier,” Trisha says.
We both ignore her. Now that I’m looking at Hot Bartender, I can’t seem to look away.
I’m only vaguely aware of the crowded bar around us.
Even my cousin can’t break through the little bubble of awareness I’m currently inhabiting with this beautiful, beautiful man.
“Or you could go in a different direction,” he continues. “How do you feel about beer?”
“Um…” I have a sudden flash of memory, the smell of stale Budweiser on Kevin’s breath, his red, angry face close to mine while he shoved me into the wall—
I barely manage to suppress a shudder, but the bartender must have seen something in my face because his expression flickers with concern.
“I’ll try the sangria,” I say quickly, embarrassed by my reaction and hating the fact that Kevin still has this kind of effect on me.
So much for being free from him.
“Sangria it is,” the bartender says, giving me an easy smile that has butterflies taking flight in my belly. “I’ll bring that right out.”
He turns to Trisha, who holds up her nearly full Cosmo. “Another of these, please.”
It seems silly to order another of the same when she still has so much left in her glass, but the bartender doesn’t say anything. He just gives us a nod, taps the table with both hands, then stands and heads over to the bar.
“Holy shit,” she squeals the second he’s gone. “He is so into you.”
I reach for my wine, feeling shaky. “He wasn’t.”
“He was,” she insists. “He is.” Then she’s leaning across the table, swiping at my cardigan. “Take this off.”
I smack her hands away. “I’m not taking off my sweater. I’m just wearing a camisole underneath!”
She waves her hands around at the bar. “You’ll still be wearing more than half the women here!”
“I’m not taking off my cardigan.”
She ignores me. “Here’s what you need to do when he comes back—push your arms together like this.” She demonstrates. “To make your boobs more noticeable.”
“You’re a ridiculous human, do you know that?”
“Let’s take your hair down.” She reaches for the clip holding my blond bob neatly behind my ears. “Then you can tousle it up. Guys love that—it makes them think of sex.”
“Trisha.”
“Try to touch yourself in front of him as much as you can—”
“What?” I squeal in horror.
She rolls her eyes. “Not like that. I just mean touch your skin. Like this.” She runs her fingertips across her collarbone, and then along the straps of her little black dress. “And your hair. Touch your hair a lot.”
“Why?” I ask, baffled.
“Because it makes him think about touching you,” she says, exasperated, like I’m the stupidest person on the planet.
“Guys are very sensual creatures. I guarantee he wants to touch your skin and your hair so the more you can make him notice those things, the better. Oh!” She smacks her hands on the table in excitement.
“I almost forgot. Bite your lips as much as you can. You definitely want him noticing your lips.”
“How will he notice anything about me when I’m sitting next to a literal psychopath?” I ask, laughing. “Trisha, come on. I’m not doing any of that.”
She groans. “At least take off that fucking sweater.”
“Leave the sweater alone.” I smack her hands again as she reaches for the buttons. “Get off me!”
“Everything okay here, ladies?”
Great. Hot Bartender is back. And from the amused undertone in his voice I have a feeling he knows exactly what we were arguing about.
“We’re great,” Trisha says brightly.
“Glad to hear it.” He sets her new Cosmo next to the almost-full one then turns to me. “Here’s that sangria. I made you a gin fizz, too, just in case you wanted to try something different.” He grins. “On the house.”
Good lord, that grin is dangerous. A girl could get into a lot of trouble with that grin.
A fact that my idiot cousin proves at that exact moment.
I’m so mesmerized staring at Hot Bartender, that I don’t notice her pushing her unfinished Cosmo toward me.
It’s not until she loudly says, “oops! Watch out!” that I realize what she’s doing.
The cold liquid hits me square in the center of the chest. “Oh my god, Ellie,” she cries.
“I’m such a klutz! I can’t believe I did that! ”
I stare at her as the drink spreads across my cardigan. The little brat is grinning at me.
I’m going to kill my cousin.