He rolls his eyes. “Yes, Alex, I’m inviting you out.”
“That sounded more like an order than an invitation.”
He closes the door behind him and drops into the seat across from me. “That’s because I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“If this is about your clubs again—”
“Nah, we’ve already worked that out. This is about you being mopey all week long.”
I scowl, both at the description and the idea he knows anything about me.How would he know anything about my week? We haven’t run into each other at all.“I have not been mopey.”
“According to Felix, you have.”
I glare at the door, even though I know Felix isn’t here because he called in ‘sick’ this morning.
“He thinks it’s because your girlfriend turned down your proposal,” Nick continues, his golden eyebrows slowly climbing up his forehead. “Which was news to me, because last I knew, you already had a husband.”
“It’s a long story,” I mutter.
“Which I will be happy to listen to over drinks.” He snatches up a pen and a scrap piece of paper to write on. “Here’s my number. I’ll see you tonight.” He slips the paper toward me and doesn’t bother waiting for an answer as he gets to his feet.
“I haven’t said yes—”
The door closes before I finish.
Sighing, I reach for my phone to complain to Euan about his pushy ex, but when I open it up, I see the last text I sent him yesterday. My subtle attempt to invite him to visit again. Still unanswered.
Maybe he missed it, or someone interrupted him before he could reply. I know he was supposed to have dinner with his parents yesterday.
Or maybe he didn’t know how to turn me down.
I close the messages with Euan and pick up the paper with Nick’s phone number.
Fine, but I pick thebar.
“Thisis the bar you wanted to come to?” Nick demands, lip curled as he takes in the hotel bar.
“If you don’t want to hang out—”
“No, it’s fine. It’s just …”
While he tries to find the words, I sit down at the counter. The bar is busier than it was the night I met Euan but still pretty empty for a Friday night.
“Quiet,” Nick finally lands on as he takes the stool next to me.
The bartender finishes with her only other customer and takes our order. Nick asks for a hard cider, I ask for a Dirty Girl Scout. When she brings our drinks over, Nick looks at the bright green drink with mild disgust. “What. Is. That?”
“A shot,” I reply, before tossing it back.
“Yes, I’d gathered.” He clutches the bottleneck of his cider like he’s afraid I’m going to swap our drinks when he’s not looking. “Are you looking for liquid courage or are you hoping the mutant green sludge turns you into a superhero?”
“It’s mint,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “And it tastes good. Euan bought one for me when we met.”
“Weird, doesn’t seem like the type of thing he’d drink.”
I ignore him and ask the bartender, “Can I get a Redheaded Slut?”
“Okay, now you’re just fucking with me,” Nick says. Then he watches, mouth agape, as the bartender makes the shot without batting an eye.
