There were other seats.
The side profile of the man next to me made my jaw drop.
It was Ansel Barlowe.
AnselfuckingBarlowe.
I blinked,hard.
Once.
Twice.
Three times — for good measure.
I was drunk… but I wasn’tthatdrunk.
Before I could stop it, before I really evenrealizedwhat was about to happen, the most disgusting laugh punched out of my mouth.
He turned towards me, glowering.
“Can I help you?” He snapped, and I almost fainted.
“You’re Ansel Barlowe,” I said — stupidly.
Of course he was.
He knew that.
“I’m aware,” he practicallygrowled.
I shouldn’t have felt it everywhere.
I’m really not sure how long I sat there, with my jaw hanging open like an idiot, absolutely star-struck.
I should have stayed frozen. It was better than what came out of my mouth next…
“You’re my hall pass.”
“Yourwhat?”
“Hall pass-” I spluttered, amazed that he was still looking at me. Looking at me with his deep blue eyes, even as he glared at me, he was to die for. His peppered brown curls fell just about his shoulders, and the broad lines of his chest wereaddictive. He had been attractive as a scrawny kid but now…My god.He was the kind of man youwouldleave your husband for. Thick, veiny arms, decorated with a lightning bolt tattoo.
“You know… like the one person I can cheat on my husband-” The word snagged in my throat. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Sorry, so sorry.”
I waved a hand in his direction as my cheeks flushed deep red. “It’s just a fun thing,” I kept speaking, despite my raging shame. “He picked the main actress from that one big vampire series… I can’t remember the name.”
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
“So your husband got to choose a young, hot bombshell. And you went with a washed-up actor that peoplestillmock for a performance from almost two decades ago?”
“Not my husband.” My eyes went big, and, if it was even possible, the blush on my cheeks deepened. “Ex-husband.”
I was out of body. That’s theonlyexplanation that I would accept. I was drunk, I was sad, and AnselfuckingBarlowe was sitting next to me.
At seven pm.
In a bar.
