He’s gorgeous, with dark hair and mismatched eyes—one blue, one brown. The combination is striking, and I find my eyes straying to him far more often than they should. He’s fourteen years younger than I am, and I have no business looking at him like I do.
The first time I saw him, I was so captivated by his eyes that I had to excuse myself to google what they meant. Heterochromia. No one, man or woman, has captivated me the way he does.
I’m feeling just buzzed enough to do something stupid, so I pat the barstool next to me.
Without a word, he climbs onto it.
“Do you come here often?” The question is a cliché, and I know that, but I truly never have seen him here before.
He shakes his head. “Never. I was driving home and saw your truck.”
“So you decided to stop in?”
Arlo drums his fingers on the bar. “Luca said you all had a bad day.” He shrugs, not making eye contact with me. “I just happened to be driving by and saw you here. Thought maybe you could use a friend.”
I blow out a breath. Well, he’s got me there. “Yeah, it wasn’t great. You signing up to be my friend for the night, sweetheart?”
The words come out far more flirty than they should. Eyes widening, he nods, his throat bobbing heavily with a swallow. “Sure. If that’s what you need.”
“Do you want a drink?” I ask, looking around for Brooks.
“No,” Arlo says, shaking his head. “I don’t drink.”
And here I am, drowning my sorrows every time I have a rough day. Though to be fair, it’s not that often.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“S’okay. Didn’t expect you to.”
And that’s true enough. Not only is Arlo not a local, but he’s also secretive about where he came from and his life. Hell, I don’t even know where he lives.
“How about I take you home?” he says.
I laugh. “You propositioning me, sweetheart?”
My favorite blush spreads across his face. “No. I know you’re not into guys. I wouldn’t be that stupid.”
I frown. Why would he think that? Well, I guess it’s not like I advertise it, really. Not like it even really matters, considering outside the couple of guys I fucked around with when I was young, I haven’t been with any. It’s not that I don’t want to. More like the opportunity rarely presents itself.
“I’m into you.” Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that. Alcohol and my attraction don’t mix.
He surprises me by laughing. “Sure. And pigs can fly.”
“I’m serious.” I search his face, looking back and forth between his eyes.
He narrows them, his laughter dying off. “I know you probably think I’m just young and dumb, but I’m not. I know when someone’s fucking with me. You don’t have to pick on me.”
My mouth drops open. “I’m not, Arlo.” He clenches his jaw, pressing his lips in a tight line. “I’m truly not.”
I’m not sure why it’s so important to me that he knows I’m not fucking with him, but it is.
He scoffs. “I know I’m about as transparent as glass with my little… crush,” he says, nearly choking on the word crush. “But I’m not dumb. I know it’s not going anywhere. You don’t have to make fun of me for it.”
My heart skips a beat. “No, you’re not dumb at all.”
“I know that,” he nearly growls. “I just said it.”
God, I’m gonna regret this. Without giving myself time to think about what I’m doing, I dip my head and press my lips to his. He freezes against me, his body going unnaturally still.
