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“Will there be lots of compliments with this drink? I think I deserve excessive amounts of praise,” I interjected.
Jeremy smirked. “There will be some praise. Not too much. Can’t have you go getting a big ego or anything.”
We started to walk toward the parking lot, our arms brushing against each other. “I guess there’s only room for one over-inflated ego around here, huh?”
“You sure know how to hit a guy where it hurts,” he winced, but it was all in good fun.
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Wyatt,” I laughed.
The mood between us was light and jovial. It was easy to talk to Jeremy when he wasn’t being a brutish pig. It was times like this that he was most dangerous.
Because it was then that I found myself really liking him.
**
“When I see you drink, I feel like such a pussy,” Jeremy complained, watching me as I downed a shot of bourbon in one go.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and put the glass down on the bar, whistling for Brad to bring another round.
We had ended up at Sweet Lila’s. Mostly because it was the only decent bar in town if you didn’t want to rub elbows with half the local winos. It was open mic night, which was equal parts entertaining and cringe-inducing. Jeremy and I were at the far end of the bar drinking our weight in booze. We both had to get up early the next day, but it didn’t seem to matter. It was after nine and we were still going strong.
I was high on my win and Jeremy seemed happy to indulge me.
“I’ve had a lot of practice, my friend.” I patted my stomach. “This is a gut of steel.” I sipped on my shot this time, instead of slamming it back. I wasn’t feeling a buzz yet, but I wanted to take it slow. Jeremy had seen me sloppy before and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. Been there, done that.
Jeremy twisted in his stool to face me. “I’m guessing the college years were one big party for you then.”
I waved at my parents’ neighbors who walked into the busy bar behind Sandra Leonard who I graduated high school with. It was hard going anywhere in this small town without running into someone I knew. Growing up in a place like Southport had its charms but it also had its drawbacks. I felt as if I was always on display. That people analyzed and gossiped about every beer I drank and every man I spoke to. I had no doubt Mom and Dad would get wind of me drinking shots with a handsome man on a Thursday night.
Whatever.
I drank some more bourbon. “I like fun as much as the next girl, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to knuckle down when I need to.”
Jeremy drank the shot and made a face. I laughed. “Not a bourbon fan?”
He cringed, his almost too pretty face twisting into a comical expression. “God no. I’m a vodka guy.”
“Drinking bourbon will put some hair on your chest, Wyatt.” I patted his chest. It was hard not to notice the hard planes of muscle beneath my palm. Damn, the man was cut. I was overcome with an overwhelming desire to see what was beneath the fitted shirt.
I cleared my throat and pushed aside the unwanted thoughts. I stood up and leaned far over the bar. “Hey Brad, four shots of vodka please,” I hollered over the loud music. I was rewarded with a thumbs up, so I sat back down.
“Four? You trying to kill me, woman?” Jeremy asked, shaking his head.
“Maybe I’m just trying to get you drunk so I can take advantage of you.” I gave him a wink and he seemed delightfully surprised by my forwardness.
He leaned closer and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Just so you know… you don’t need to get me drunk to take advantage of me. I’m more than willing.”
And here we were again, balancing ever so delicately between joking around and seriousness. I was never quite sure what side of the line he fell. Ever since things became complicated between us last year, I tended to dismiss his flirting as just that—flirting.
Yet I couldn’t forget how he had put aside the schmoozy charm and acted like a decent human being. How he had walked me home and kissed me in the doorway of my apartment building. And what a kiss it had been. My trusty vibrator got a workout that night thinking about all the other things I wished we had done.
Then he froze me out and acted like those hours of decency never happened. He had gone back to screwing around and throwing out banter like I hadn’t mattered.
Maybe I hadn’t.
But I wasn’t sure I could believe that.
