I frown. “No. Why would you ask that?”
He laughs a little too loud. “Oh, I don’t know. You just don’t seem that excited to see me.”
Poor guy. I probably don’t look like I’m happy to be here because, honestly, I’m not. But I’m going to make a better effort to give it a chance.
I paste on a smile and lean over the table toward him. “I’m just nervous. So tell me a little more about you, Steve. I know you like the gym and you’re into rowing, but what do you like to do when you’re not working out?”
He relaxes a little, leaning back against the stool. “That’s pretty much me. I’m an open book. I just like to keep fit.” He reaches up to brush his hair back, which gives me a good view of his stacked arm muscles. It’s clear the guy spends a long time working out. Was that a flex?
I do my best to keep a straight face. “So I see.”
He grins. “Thanks.”
I wasn’t aware I’d complimented him, but oh well.
“Can I get you a drink?”
I accept and he goes to the bar, leaving me to watch as he elbows aside a lady who was clearly waiting before he was. I sigh to myself. I can tell how this is going to go. He’ll make lame conversation, mostly about himself and about sports. He’ll expect me to be amazed at his good looks and grateful for the attention and the drinks and go home with him where we’ll have mediocre sex and if he’s lucky, he’ll make me cum after I tell him exactly how to do it.
The question is, can I be bothered with that today? An early night, my hand, and a fantasy about Bas is sounding way, way better right now.
Steve returns with two beers, handing one to me and watching me intently while I take a sip. He clearly chose the cheapest thing they have on tap because it’s bitter as hell.
I give him a smile over the glass, setting it down again quickly. “Thanks. So, um, where were we? I think you were telling meabout your plan to become a personal trainer and start your own supplements company.”
His eyes widen. “Oh, did I already tell you about that?” He lifts his glass toward me. “Cheers. Drink up. It’s still happy hour.”
Great. I’ve gone on a date with the cheapest guy on campus. I take another sip of the fowl tasting beer and then pause. Even cheap, nasty beer shouldn’t taste this bitter, unless…
I say nothing, but I spit most of my mouthful discreetly back into the glass, setting it down again. If Steve has done something to my drink, he’s about to regret it.
“Do you know where the bathrooms are here?” I ask him, hoping my voice is casual. “Are they over there?” I point to a spot on the far wall behind Steve, making him turn to look.
While he’s distracted, I quickly switch the beers.
“Uh, yeah. I think so.” He turns back with a frown.
He probably thinks I’m acting weird since the sign is light-up neon pink and you literally can’t miss it, but if I’m right, I don’t care what he thinks of me.
He looks at me for another beat. “Did you…did you need to go?”
“Nope. I just like to know in case.”
We’re both quiet for a moment while we drink. Steve’s drink definitely tastes better than mine did, but if he notices the difference, he says nothing.
I’m struggling to think of what to ask him next, hand flexing on my thigh, wanting to reach into my purse and check my phone. I’m starting to regret switching it to Airplane mode now. Obsessing over Bas not messaging actually sounds more fun than a night out with Steve.
Half a glass of beer and a stilted conversation about the college football team later, Steve is starting to slur his words and blink down into his glass in confusion.
What an asshole. I can’t believe he thought he could get away with that shit. I’d like to know what he put in the drink, but I doubt he’ll tell me. It was clearly something strong to have affected him so quickly. It chills me a little to think about what might have happened if I hadn’t noticed.
I’m tossing up whether to call 911 now or wait until he actually passes out, when the door to the bar slams open, smacking against the wall with a bang.
Everyone goes quiet and all heads—except Steve’s—dart toward the entrance where a broad-shouldered figure strides in looking like he’s about to tear shit up.
God, this guy is built. Like stacked. He’s thick in all the right places and his chest looks broad enough to make a pillow for at least five of me. My jaw hits the floor when I finally get a good look at his face and recognize Bas. My Bas. Only it doesn’t look like my brother’s best friend, the guy I practically grew up with. No, this Bas looks like a tornado contained by a lasso—like he’s about to absolutely tear this place apart. He scans the room while everyone stares in silence, conversations momentarily forgotten.
Then his eyes meet mine just as Steve lurches from his seat and sways over to me. My date grabs my arm, eyes blinking more slowly than normal and taking a long time to open again. “Hey, let’s get out of here, m’kay? I’ll take you back to my place.”
