Chapter 2 #2
His hair is darker, but it was longer and probably sun-bleached when we were in high school. The guy I remember also had an unusual name, though I couldn’t say for sure that it was Jaeger. He was quiet, like this guy, and now that I look closer, the face is similar.
This must be the same person, and if it is, he’s filled out. A lot.
He also used to be a skiing champion and had a long-term girlfriend.
I never thought he noticed me.
Jaeger watches Mason tell a funny story about Adam, and a small smile curves his lips. It’s the cutest guy smile I’ve ever seen, and it transforms Jaeger from large, enigmatic male into something more approachable and appealing.
He’s definitely going on Gen’s list. Not my list, because I don’t need a list, but Gen’s list, I remind myself.
Mason laughs at Adam, who’s trying to defend himself for chasing after a woman he thought was Gisele while skiing, and Jaeger’s mouth morphs into a full grin. His gaze strays to mine, as though he senses me looking.
His smile reduces to something sultry and curious, and my stomach tightens. For a second, I lose the ability to breathe.
Holy shit. That smile is lethal.
Jaeger hasn’t looked at me dead-on since we arrived, and the impact sends my brain tumbling. His eyes are dark green along the edges of the iris, like the center of a pine needle, growing lighter toward the middle. Abruptly, he looks down at his hands, before observing his friends again.
I slump in my seat. This might be Tyler’s high school friend, but he’s changed.
I’m reeling. I mean, really freaking out right now. I’ve never felt instant sizzle before, and with Jaeger—my brother’s friend? That’s a no-go zone. I have a boyfriend!
I lift my hand and signal to the waitress. She sees me and walks over. “Shot of Cuervo, please.”
Startled faces peer at me from around the table. What? “Anyone else want one?”
Jaeger and Adam order a shot.
Breanna, Adam’s girlfriend, purses her lips and glares. “Excuse me!” She flips her hand out at Adam. “Girlfriend sitting here. Why are you talking about pursuing another woman?”
Oh right, the Gisele conversation. God, that seems trivial compared to the mini-crisis going on in my head.
“Bree, that was way before we met.” Adam squeezes Breanna’s shoulder.
“Right, ’cause if you saw Gisele now, you would totally ignore her and have zero interest out of your love and respect for me. Is that what you meant to say?”
“Uhhh, yeah. Absolutely.” Adam smiles mischievously at his friends while he pats Breanna on the back.
“I saw that!” Breanna snaps.
Gen absently passes me the green olives from her martini while watching the Breanna and Adam soap opera.
Grinning, I pop one into my mouth and glance up.
I choke before the olive passes my tonsils.
Jaeger is staring at my throat.
His gaze lifts to my eyes and heat rushes my face.
I’d like to say the look he’s giving me is one of observation, as though he’s watching an exotic bird eat an unusual food. Gen’s informed me on more than one occasion that my love of green olives is unnatural. But Jaeger looks sexy, and hot, and his gaze is sending fiery signals to my girl parts.
“I remember you now,” I say without breaking eye contact. “You had a girlfriend.”
The heat in his eyes disappears. He looks away. “That was a long time ago.”
An enigmatic response from an enigmatic person. This is the Jaeger I remember. Quiet. Reserved.
Jaeger glances at Gen and his expression softens.
There’s no reason to strike him from Gen’s list. Not when I remember him as a good guy.
I flag the waitress again and request another shot, chasing it with a second martini to dull the hormones riding me. It’s been almost a week since I saw Eric… and a lot longer since we had sex. My libido’s been neglected. Any hot guy could incite the reaction Jaeger does.
I listen to the others talk and lose track of the conversation. After a while, I grab Gen’s chair. Or maybe her arm. Am I leaning on her?
She glances at me wearily. “Mason, we’re gonna get going. Thanks for inviting us tonight.”
Crap, those shots that dulled my senses also made me forget to keep tabs on the chemistry between Gen and Mason. Did they hit it off?
Mason smiles politely. “Great to meet you, Cali. I look forward to seeing you around at Blue.”
What a sweet guy. He’s a keeper, and I’m going to tell Gen so, just as soon as my tongue thins out. “Definitely!” I practically yell. It’s the only word I can get past my numb lips.
Gen’s eyes widen. “I think we’ll take an Uber.”
I wave goodbye to the rest of them, and they return the gesture, except for Jaeger, who observes my every uncoordinated move, his mouth tense, brows drawn.
I’m drunk, but not so drunk I don’t know what a loud, clumsy drunkass I am. Good thing I’m already in a relationship, or there’d be embarrassment on the menu for tomorrow.
We leave the casino and I tell the Uber guy to take us to the Last Stop. They’re open long after the casinos slow, with two a.m. breakfasts that have just the right amount of grease.
Gen slides into a booth, and I bump my hip on the table as I slither in across from her.
“You’re hammered, Cali.”
“Yup.” I hiccup, the foul flavor of vomitus and alcohol singeing my tongue. “Need water.”
Four glasses of water and a late-night breakfast large enough to feed a two-hundred-pound man later, my mouth regains its dexterity. “Mason’s hot,” I say casually.
Here’s where I unearth the truth about Gen’s feelings for Mason. “I’m definitely going to keep my eye out for him at the casino. I need something pretty to look at while I slave away shuffling cards,” I say, and shift my gaze to catch her response.
If one wishes to elicit a reaction from the elusive species known as reservus quietgirlius, one must poke.
Gen snorts indelicately. “Oh, it’s rough for you, isn’t it? Try carrying around a fifteen-pound tray all night—in heels.”
My brows pinch and I quickly smooth them out. I expected annoyance at my checking out Mason, and she gives me nil. Not cool. Point one to Gen, but I have more in my arsenal.
“Did you see his shoulders and arms? Those snowboarders are in good shape.”
“Okay—girl with a boyfriend.”
Ouch. That one hit the soft spot. I already feel guilty about my hormonal response to Jaeger. “I’m not actually interested. I just appreciate a nice-looking guy when I see one. I think Mason likes you.”
Gen swishes the ice in her clear plastic cup. “He doesn’t like me. He’s a friend.”
Okay, now I’m annoyed. She’s not ’fessing up to anything. “He likes you, Gen, and he’s cute and sweet. What’s wrong with him?”
“There’s nothing wrong with him. I’m just wondering if maybe it’s too soon for me to date other men.” She thunks her cup on the table, avoiding my eyes. “I haven’t gotten over the last one that hurt me.”
A perfectly valid point. So why do I feel like the A-hole isn’t the real reason she’s suddenly shying away from dating?
“I thought you were open to going out? Dating isn’t a relationship, it’s just… hanging. No strings, just fun.”
Gen straightens. “I think maybe friendships are more my speed right now.” She shoves a forkful of hash browns into her mouth, shredded bits dangling from one corner of her lips as she chews.
She doesn’t fool me by shoveling in food so she can’t talk. I recognize avoidance tactics when I see them.
“Enough about my dating woes,” she finally says. “Let’s get in a game of table shuffleboard before we leave.” She eyes the back wall where the game is located—changing the subject, dammit!
“Fine, but be prepared for an ass-kicking. You know how good I am.”
Gen chokes on her last bite. “That’s absolutely not how I remember your skills at shuffleboard, or ping-pong, or any other game or sport requiring hand-eye coordination. Why do you think I want to play you? I need an ego boost after being called Snow all night.”
The nickname Snow White is a part of Gen’s hazing by the veteran waitresses. “Why do they call you that?”
“Who knows—my dark hair? Either way, one of them stared at Mason the entire time he and I shared our dinner break. Mason’s gotta be at least ten years younger than most of them, but they don’t seem deterred.”
Gen and Mason had dinner together? Nice. Maybe she’ll change her mind about this friends-only business.
“If I were their age and single, I’d go for him too. So yes, I believe it.”
I flex my fingers like I’m doing digit stretches. “I wouldn’t be so cocky about table shuffleboard if I were you. My dexterity and speed have improved dramatically after long hours of dealing cards.”
Gen rolls her eyes. “Uh-huh.”
I shouldn’t have goaded her. Gen gave me a Shuffleboard Smackdown of five-zip in under an hour.
By the time we return home, I’m not sure who’s more nervous about her future dating adventures—her, or me as her wingwoman, thrust in front of tempting, attractive men.
Or just one attractive man.