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My breath hitched. This guy exuded sex. But I wasn’t here for that. I straightened and jumped back into the conversation.
“So how’d ya find this brand? I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s my dad’s favorite.” The way his eyes twinkled when he spoke made me think he might actually smile. “This was the first beer he gave me at sixteen. Guess it stuck.”
I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped me. “Sixteen? My dad would have shot me if I’d had beer that young, and yours was the one handing it to you?”
“He was a single dad, just trying to do his best.” Rubbing his palms together, he ducked his head and focused on the table, like maybe my comment had offended him.
“I didn’t mean that in a bad way.” I laid a hand on his forearm.
The already corded muscles tightened under my fingers, and he followed my movement.
I continued, not wanting him to think I was criticizing. “It’s cool that your dad was chill.”
He relaxed under my touch, but only slightly. It still felt like I was holding on to a rock. Whatever the guy did to strengthen the muscles in his arms was working for him. I grazed my thumb along the skin of his wrist, and again, he followed the movement, fixated on the contact.
He cleared his throat. “Dad’s big on rites of passage. He wanted me to have my first beer with him.” He was assessing me again, but he didn’t push me off his arm. “It was never a taboo thing at my house, so I never cared about drinking myself stupid.”
“My dad was strict about everything.” I rolled my eyes. Strict was putting it mildly. “He can’t find his chill even now.” I chuckled.
I was twenty-seven, but more often than not, my dad acted like I was still a little girl.
“He and my mom divorced when I was too little to remember. I think he worried about being good enough.” Raising a child while so involved in major league baseball couldn’t have been easy. It was hard to keep me from hearing about all kinds of drama with players and in the industry overall. So he totally overcompensated and became a general. Although maybe it was just his personality. He was that way when it came to most things in life.
“My dad is awesome. Good at everything, especially being chill. I aim to be more like him.” The broody hottie frowned.
My heart squeezed, and warmth unfurled in my chest. How swoony was it that this grump loved his family?
“Did your dad grow up on Long Island?” The Easy Out must have come from somewhere.
He nodded. “Me too.”
Wow. I wouldn’t have guessed it. He didn’t have that strong New York accent. He pronounced hisHs, and hisOs didn’t sound likeaw. And yet the traitor might be a bagel-loving Metros fan. I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms.
He chuckled, and my heart skipped. Holy shit, he was hot when he was glaring, but that quick almost-smirk caused my body to ache in a way that it hadn’t in entirely too long. My heart beat a bit faster, and I shifted in my seat. God help me. If he actually smiled, I might combust.
“My Long Island roots aren’t a disease you can catch.”
“Says you,” I accused, but I failed to stop the smile that pulled at my lips. “When did you move to Boston?”
He scanned my face like he wasn’t sure he wanted to answer the question. Finally, he sighed. “This week.”
I sat up straight again and pressed a hand to my chest. “Really? I feel like I should draw you a map of all the good spots.” I laughed.
His lips quirked and pulled up in one corner, and I swore my body clenched at the idea that this grump might smile. Even more, that he might smile atme. “I’d love that.”
Apparently, his wish was my command. I grabbed a bar napkin and opened it wide before glancing around. “Maybe the bartender has a?—”
The Sharpie hit the table next to my napkin and rolled.
I caught it quickly and cocked a brow at him. “Was that in your pocket?” Not to be judgy, but what kind of grown adult carried markers around like that?
In response to the question, my grump locked his jaw and scowled. Hmm. Inspiring an expression thatwasn’ta glare was almost a challenge.
“Do you have other colors? Because, really, I like rose gold,” I joked.
He grunted, then a silver Sharpie dropped onto the table next to the black, followed by a royal blue. The way the colors appeared kinda felt like magic.
