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Chapter 2
One of the beautiful things about my brain is that whenever I’m nervous I can almost guarantee that within seconds I will find something that I can fixate on, to center me. Talking to a guy as hot as Cain had my palms sweating and my nipples tingling. I wanted to roll out the welcome mat to my vagina right there on the bar because he was that gorgeous. But that made me nervous. I knew I was being too literal. Knew I was being too straightforward. The rules of flirtation and polite society dictated you dance around the subject of sexual attraction with innuendos and hints. Only hookers asked you flat out if you wanted to fuck.
Hookers and me.
But I had been afraid my window of opportunity was short. Like only as long as it would take for him to finish his drink and lose interest, and clearly, the man could suck down a drink with warp speed. So I had thrown it out there, and holy hell, he had bitten. So I was nervous tenfold. Giddy. This man was going to be on top of me at some point during the night, in the world’s most unlikely pairing. That was the irony of sexual attraction though. It had nothing to do with likelihood and everything to do with pheromones and opportunity.
And I did not want to lose this particular opportunity. This was the nerd girl winning the lust lottery. But I was feeling it coming on—the twitch of OCD, the compulsive need to point out to him that I was a virgin and to question if he was okay with the brand of condom I had in my purse, but I knew if I spoke too much, I would freak him out, turn him off.
After Cain asked for his tab and the bartender set it down, I had the perfect distraction from my giddy nerves. A glance, even through my false eyelashes, easily showed me the math was off. “That total is wrong.”
“Huh?” Cain looked up at me. “It’s computerized. How can it be wrong?”
Because I had studied the drink menu four times, I had the prices memorized. “He charged you for the unicorn tears as a double shot, not a drink. The total is two dollars more than it should be.”
He slapped some money down and gave me a bemused look. “So I guess I just overpaid for unicorn tears. But really, can you put a price on unicorn tears?”
I opened my mouth. He startled me by putting his finger on my lips. “Shh. That’s a rhetorical question, Sophie.”
His touch was warm, firm. His finger large. I was surprised by how that simple gesture, that brush of his skin on mine, stoked the fires of arousal in me. I felt small and very feminine before him, his body broad, his smile naughty, mischievous.
“What’s your last name?” he asked. “I feel like I’m going to need to use it on you from time to time tonight.”
“Bigelow,” I murmured, vibrating his finger.
“Sophie Bigelow, sometimes questions don’t have answers.” He had the most amazing eyes. They were a pale blue, an icy cool. The color of the mineral azurite.
I couldn’t read his expression, but that didn’t surprise me. It wasn’t necessarily my strongest attribute—reading people. I waited a beat for him to remove his finger but he didn’t. He was closer to me than I knew was socially acceptable. Personal space boundaries I understood. I sought at least twenty-four inches between myself and other people at all times.
Except for Cain. I wanted no space between us. I wanted his body touching mine, everywhere.
So I spoke around his finger again, feeling warm and fluid. “Every question has an answer. Unless it’s mathematics. Then sometimes the answer is infinity.”
“Then I guess the price of unicorn tears is infinity.” He ran his finger over my bottom lip then slid his hand over to cup my cheek. I felt the air shift as he leaned in, like he was going to kiss me.
I hovered there, waiting for it. But he pulled back. “You’re very cute, do you know that?”
Disappointed that he didn’t take my mouth in a searing kiss, I reminded myself we were in public. Starting out with a make-out session in front of two dozen people was not keeping my business private. The point wasn’t to shout out to Camden that I needed a mercy fuck. And my sister was bearing down on us like Hurricane Bella. Without acknowledging his comment, I turned and put up my hand before Bella could speak. “I’m leaving. You’re staying here.”
Her jaw dropped. “What? Where are you going?”
“To a different bar with Cain. I’ll take an Uber home when I’m ready.”
She looked outraged. “You can’t do that! You can’t just wander around town with a total stranger!”
“I’m staying in public,” I lied. “What could happen to me?”
“I’ll make sure she gets home safe,” Cain said.
Bella clearly wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but she was far too polite for that.
“That’s nice of you and if you two want to keep chatting, there is no reason you can’t stay here,” Bella said. “With me. Or I can go to another bar with you. I’m not staying here without you.”
“I want to be alone with him,” I said. “You introduced me to him,” I added, knowing that would irritate her.
“This is a bad idea, Soph. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“You told me I need to learn how to have fun.”
