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“Your nine o’clock is from a long time ago, and she’s been hinting hard for the last thirty minutes. Mind helping me out tonight?”
What? No, he wasn’t about to do this to me again, this wasn’t happening. My body locked up as hundreds of nights that had begun just like this one flooded my mind.
No, no, no, no, no! This isn’t happening!
Eli sat back down on the bar stool and pulled me between his legs. His lips brushed against my neck as he whispered in my ear, “Christ, I thought you would never show up.”
“Are you kidding me?” I gritted through clenched teeth, and pushed against the arms holding me close.
I felt his body tense and his lips pause against my neck for a few seconds before his eyes were directly in front of my own, but his hold never loosened. “What’s wrong?”
“I have been your wingman for twelve years, Eli
Jenkins. You’re not about to keep treating me like one.”
His eyes widened in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“This, what you’re doing right now? It’s what you’ve always done. Use me as a shield from the exes and the crazies so you don’t have to deal with them, and then push me back as soon as they’re gone.
“Pay,” Eli spoke up, the confusion in his eyes turning to amusement, but I kept talking over him.
“The words, the kisses against my neck, the way you’re holding me . . . all of it. I’m not doing—”
My rant was cut off when Eli tipped me back against the bar and pressed his mouth firmly to mine. His large hands squeezed my waist then dropped down toward my hips when his tongue slowly slid against mine; and by the time he was nipping my bottom lip, I had forgotten we were still in the bar.
“Now if you’ll let me speak,” he murmured against my lips, then pressed another gentle kiss to them. “I’m sorry, all of that came out wrong in the beginning, that was my bad. I wanted your help in letting her know that I’m taken, not in just getting rid of her because I didn’t want to have to deal with her again. But you’re right, I shouldn’t have said or done that.” Eli sat back on the bar stool and pulled me close. His tone was low and serious, and his eyes were staring intently into mine. “You already know how sorry I am for everything I ever did to you and how I treated you before. I could apologize for that for the rest of my life, but it wouldn’t help us move on from it. But I am sorry for tonight, I didn’t mean to make you feel like a wingman again. Soon everyone will know that I belong to you. Soon we won’t have to deal with these girls anymore, and I’m sorry that you have to now.”
A shaky breath left me when he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth, and my body slowly started relaxing again. “I may have overreacted . . . kinda,” I mumbled lamely, earning a low laugh from him.
“Start over?” Eli offered.
My mouth curved into a smile, and I nodded against him. “Please.”
In a move that had my head spinning, Eli turned to the side and pushed me a few feet away, only to pull me back so I slammed into his chest. “God, Pay, I’ve missed you,” he growled against my mouth, and kissed me through my laughs.
“You’re ridiculous,” I murmured, and kissed him lightly once more. “But thank you.”
With a wink, he got settled in his seat again and pulled me close. “So how was your day?” he asked, and reached for his Guinness.
“It was long, I was just ready to get here.”
“A particular guy couldn’t have something to do with that . . . could he?”
I raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “I don’t know, is he a giant?”
Eli grinned. “A beast.”
“Look kinda like Lurch?”
“Only after a night where his girlfriend wore him out.”
Blood rushed to my cheeks and I looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to us.
“Speaking of,” he murmured into my ear. “Are you trying to kill me with that outfit, Paisley? I’m not going to make it through the night if I have to look at you in this.”
I frowned and looked down. I had a reason for wearing this; I just didn’t think he’d like the actual outfit. I was in a loose black cotton skirt, and a dark gray shirt that hung off both shoulders but was extremely form-fitting around my waist and hips. Granted, the skirt was ungodly short, but, then again, so was I. This outfit was not sexy; I’d wear it hanging out with Kristen in a café.
“Uh . . .”
