Landon hikes a shoulder. “Three-hundred says Jones wins.”
I hold out my hand and Landon grips it for a shake.
For the next hour, we’re locked into the fight. We order burgers and two more rounds of drinks.
And I completely forget why I came out to this bar in the first place.
Yet I don’t seem to care.
The fight is pretty even, but in the last round, Jones knocks out O’Connor with a solid right hook to the jaw.
I gasp, throwing up my hands. “Holy shit!”
Landon claps. “Your man is out cold. Pay up, baby.”
With a groan, I pull out my phone and send him three-hundred bucks.
His phone lights up, and he laughs when he opens his cash app. “Seriously?”
I wrote,For your herpes creamin the notes.
I push out of the chair and stand. “Well, I’d say thanks for the drinks but I just covered everything.”
“Sucks to suck.” Landon stands with me, digging into his wallet to pay the tab. “Wanna share a Lyft? My treat.”
I hesitate, staring up at him. Long dark lashes frame his big brown puppy dog eyes. A dark shadow of scruff peppers along his jaw, surrounding full pouty lips. He’s usually clean-shaven, but tonight he has an edge to him.
Landon looks good.
I’d love to blame it on the alcohol, but I’m barely buzzed.
He sees me staring at him, it’s obvious, but he doesn’t say a word or give me shit for it. He lets his own eyes feast on me instead.
“You never wear your hair down,” he murmurs, reaching out and toying with the ends of my strands.
“Never have a reason to.”
He pushes my hair over my shoulder, his fingertips grazing my skin and sending goosebumps down my arms. “It’s the perfect length.”
For what?I want to ask, but he wraps it around his fist and gives it a light tug, and the question dies on my tongue.
Heat simmers low in my gut. “Too bad no one gets to enjoy it tonight.”
Landon’s tongue darts out and wets his lips. “Such a shame.”
I lean closer, just enough to challenge him. “Guess I’ll be taking care of myself tonight.”
“Guess we both will.” His voice sounds raspy, rich with desire.
My thighs clench at the thought of his hand wrapped around himself, pumping in long, harsh strokes.
One corner of his mouth curves up in a wicked smirk. “What will you think about, hmm? What’ll be getting you off tonight?”
“Wouldn’t you love to know...” I won’t dare admit it, but he reads me like an open book. He sees it in my eyes, knows what I’m thinking about right now.
WhoI’m thinking about.
We’re silent on the ride to my house. I can barely breathe with him sitting so close in the back seat of the small car, his right leg pressed up against my left. My skin vibrates, sparking like a live wire.
