Honestly, I was about to say I’d like to leave.
I took a deep breath. I was going to give this a chance. It would be wrong not to. So what if all my other dates hadn’t exactly gone to plan and only proved that all the good guys in theworld were truly taken—a very sad fact for someone only in their mid-twenties?
I was not going to ruin something—if there even was something here—just because Jackson was someone who enjoyed an off-the-beaten-path location. The city was full of unique bars.
Maybe this was one of them, and I just didn’t know it yet.
Positive thinking.
“What was that?” I asked, blinking as I refocused on Jackson, taking in how he had a rather delightful spattering of freckles up the sides of his face and deep, hooded brown eyes.
He gave me a hesitant, crooked smile and looked at me up and down again, as if he was deciding what was wrong with me that I had to ask again. “What do you want to drink?”
I heard him that time. “I’ll just have a vodka cranberry.”
He gave me an A-okay sign with his fingers.
Great.
He shouted over the noise at the bartender before both of our glasses—his a beer—were slid over. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
“Oh, wait.”
He reached for it back, and unsure of what else to do, I let him take it, watching the dull glimmer of the glass as it was exchanged between us. Then he took a sip out of my drink.
Right through the thin straw.
I was certain that I couldn’t help the way my eyes widened.
“Tastes good. Just wanted you to know that it was safe and everything.”
He had taken a sip of my drink to … show me that he hadn’t drugged me?
I took the slightly dingy-looking glass back and took a big gulp of it, trying not to think of any backwash possibilities.
He was right at the very least. It was good. Strong.
I had a feeling that I was going to need it if I was going to make it through tonight, though I quickly shot a text to Gina.
I may need an SOS.
No!
Yes.
Why???
Just a feeling.
And a whole lot of other reasons.
A few dots popped up for a new response, but I quickly slid my phone back into my pocket and out of view.
“Sorry about that?—”
I stopped myself as I looked up and noticed that my date had already moved on to the other end of the bar. He was talking to another woman, who gave him a tight hug.
