Chapter 3 #2
Little beads of sweat form on my spine. Holy hell.
Here we go. First I overheat, next comes the loud, dorky laughter, and if this man doesn’t run right now, he’s going to be lassoed by my incessant chatter all night.
At twenty-three, I still haven’t mastered flirting.
Probably better not to risk it with a man this good looking.
I see more humiliation in my future. Smiling, I turn around, hoping he gets the hint.
“And no offense to your sister, but she needs to get her eyes checked. Your dress is…” I spin back around when he trails off. His gaze is shifted to the side like he’s trying to buy time.
“ Is ?” I prod.
“It looks nice on you.” He lands on a safe answer, instead of something more provocative, and there’s a little drop of disappointment in my stomach.
“You were concerned I was attacked. You’re keeping a pretty safe distance between us. And you most definitely weren’t checking out my rack. So, are you genuinely a nice guy, or is this all an act? Because if it is, bravo. You’ve really committed to the character.”
He laughs heartily. “Before I came over here, for some reason I got the impression you were shy.”
“Well now, don’t you feel silly?” I beam proudly as I hold out my hand. “I’m Spencer.”
“Nate.”
As we shake, I notice two things. First, my thumbnail is already chipped from the manicure I gave myself this morning with the cheap drugstore nail polish.
Second, he’s wearing a two-hundred-thousand-dollar watch.
I recognize the crown logo, the unique icy-blue dial, and triple counters.
That’s a collector’s watch. I know this because the very same Rolex is on Jesse’s vision board right next to a bright orange Lamborghini Urus.
I always dreamed of a family. Jesse dreamed of being filthy rich.
“That’s a beautiful watch,” I say, carefully watching his reaction.
He tugs his cuff down, covering it up. “Thank you. I like your—” He stops midsentence, and noticeably surveys my ears, then wrist. He must be looking for jewelry to compliment, except I’m not wearing any. “Lips,” he finally says.
Nice save.
The silent lull between us is quickly filled by a drunken slur over the loudspeaker. At first, it seems like someone’s grabbed a mic from the stage and is trying to cause a scene. A verse or two later of butchered lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “Cruel Summer” and I realize karaoke has commenced.
Nate and I wear matching horrified expressions. “Wow,” I say, resisting the urge to cover my ears. “At least some people are cheering.”
“I don’t think we’re as drunk as they are.”
I laugh. “I haven’t had anything to drink. Can’t get the bartender to pay attention to me.” I glance over my shoulder at the man in all black, still tending to the mob.
“Pull your dress down again. That might help our case.” Nate winks at me, sending a quick tremor up my spine.
I feel a little guilty for enjoying this.
Jesse and I just broke up. But unforgivable lines were crossed.
Trust was broken. We’re done. How much longer do I have to mourn the death of our relationship?
I bat my eyelashes. “My breasts are safely tucked away. We’ll have to think of something else.”
He leans in close, and a whisper of his cologne envelops me. There’s a hint of citrus, sweetening the smell of earth and musk. I’m lost for a moment. I don’t know what the hell that scent is, but it’s…it’s…beguiling.
“I have bottle service at my table,” he says in a husky voice.
“Then why are you slumming it at the bar with us common folk?”
He lifts his brows. “Why do you think?”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to lead you on. There’s no way in hell I’m going home with you. I came with my sister. I’m leaving with her too.”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself. I only offered you a drink.”
“That’s it?” I ask skeptically, folding my arms.
“That’s it.”
“Why waste your money on a girl who won’t sleep with you?”
I hope the grin on his face means he appreciates my candidness. He pops his shoulders with nonchalance. “Because I have money to waste.”
Cocky. Or maybe, honest ? I don’t know but my curiosity has me in a choke hold, so when he offers his hand, I take it. “ Just one drink. ” But I think I’m warning myself more than him.
Nate cups his hand with mine in what can only be described as platonically.
It’s the way a security guard would guide a celebrity to a table—just gentlemanly.
By the time we get to the velvet rope blocking his circular booth, I’m concerned his ulterior motives have nothing to do with sex and instead I’m going to meet a gory end before he stores the pieces of my body in a chest freezer locked in his basement.
He unhooks the rope and gestures for me to slide into the booth, but my feet stay planted.
“Did you change your mind?” he asks casually.
“You’re not a serial killer, right?”
He wets his lips before showing me a mischievous grin. “If I was, do you really think I’d tell you?”
I tilt my head like a puppy that just heard, walk ? “I suppose, if you were a sloppy killer.”
“Sloppy is not my style.”
“So you’re either a killer and a skilled liar.
Or, you’re luring me into a false sense of security and sex really is your endgame.
” He opens his mouth, but I hold up my pointer finger indicating I’m not done.
“Or, you’re actually a nice guy and I’ve officially watched too much Dateline which is why I live in a constant state of paranoia. ”
“You done?”
“Yes.”
“Fourth option—I was in a serious relationship that ended abruptly and I’m still not over it. Maybe I like the fact that you’re not so eager to jump into bed because I’m not dating right now and all I can handle is whatever this is.”
Oh, geez. I jumped to serial killer before considering that maybe he’s newly single and not trying to rebound. It’s official. No more Dateline . “So just flirting?” I ask sheepishly.
“Is this flirting? When I used to meet women in bars, flirting seemed less…accusatory.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll be nice now. You know what? To make it up to you, how about I buy you a drink?” I instantly regret my words because what if he takes me up on that, and judging by his watch, the kind of liquor he drinks probably costs my monthly rent.
“Thank you. But if you stay, I’m buying. Nonnegotiable. I won’t pressure you, though.” He moves past me and slides into the booth before looking back at me. “Your choice.”