Well, here I was, grinning down and bearing it.
The familiar tune of Keith Whitley’s “When You Say Nothing at All” hummed through the speakers as my eyes caught Stetson leaning into a short, blonde-haired girl who had squeezed her body into the tiny space between his legs and his barstool. His mouth was nestled close to her ear and moving slowly as she let out a fake giggle. He stood, only a few feet away from where I was, reaching his hand out for her, twirling her around just enough so I could catch a glimpse.
Delilah.
My mind was spinning just as fast as the women on the dance floor.You have got to be fucking kidding me.
And then, Stetson looked up, right at me.
Our eyes locked, and I couldn’t fake this one. I swiftly shifted to the right, dropped my head, and walked past both of them and right out the back door.
Chapter Twelve
The steel door that led to the back parking lot was cold to the touch and heavier than I anticipated. My palms pressed forcefully against it, barely managing to push it open. The night air invaded my privacy as soon as I stepped outside, making me hyperaware of the thudding of my heartbeat. I’d left my suede jacket on all night and was now compressing it tightly around my body in an attempt to trap any leftover warmth.
I leaned my head on the wooden backside of the building, letting out a sigh.
“What the fuck was I thinking?” I let out. “I’ve lost my damn mind.”
If that man wanted anything to do with me, I would’ve known by now. He’d had all night to come up to me and he never tried, not even once. Aside from our stolen glances, there was nothing to suggest he was even remotely interested. Why didn’t I take that as a hint instead of making a fool of myself in front of him?
Thank god Delilah didn’t see me because I may have actually died from embarrassment. She already thought she was superiorto everyone; the last thing I needed was for her to see me trying to shoot my shot and falling flat on my ass.
Another deep breath rose and fell out of my body.
This was exactly the sign I needed because despite the buzzworthy thoughts I’d been having, Stetson Walker was absolutely off-limits—or at least he needed to be.
I grabbed my phone out of my jacket pocket and typed out a text message to Maggie.
Me:
I’m callin’ it a night. I’m exhausted.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Maggie:
I was just about to text you and see where you were. Do you want me to come with you?
Me:
No. I saw you and Booker by the jukebox and think you should probably stay right where you are. I love you.
Maggie:
Are you sure?
Me:
I’m sure. Chat tomorrow.
Maggie:
Love you.
My phone pinged.
YourUber is arriving in six minutes.
