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He took it, felt the immediate spark flare between their palms when they connected. It shot up his arm, fired his blood and he dropped her hand almost as if it burned him. Her eyes flared, darkening for the briefest moment and he knew she felt it too.
At least he wasn’t alone in this.
The bartender set his beer in front of him with a loud thump, and Eric glanced at Stacy. “You want something to drink?”
“I have something already, thanks.” She pointed at the sweating glass in front of her. It was almost empty and looked watered down and if it had been him he would’ve jumped all over the drink offer.
Another problem of his. Too much fucking and fooling around and way too much drinking. He needed to get his head on straight.
Yet he really didn’t want to.
“So what’s a beautiful woman like you doing in a gay bar like this?” He brought the glass to his lips and drank half the beer, smiling when he caught the pink flush on her cheeks. Did she not get many compliments or what?
“Honestly? You don’t want to know.” She shook her head and tried to laugh it off.
“Now I definitely want to know.” He polished off the rest of the beer and slammed the glass on the counter, waving at the bartender and indicating he wanted another.
“Wow, you must be really thirsty.” Her gaze met his, full of concern and he ignored it. He didn’t need anyone to worry about him. He was just fine. “Um, my fiancé and I just broke up.”
“No shit?” He really wished he had that second beer. His gaze started to wander. He smiled at some random hot guy standing just beyond Stacy’s shoulder, and the hot guy made a kissy face at him back.
Damn it, he was getting somewhat of a reputation at this place. Maybe he needed to find a new bar to haunt. To troll.
“Yeah, no shit,” she echoed, her voice soft. She reached out and patted his hand. “There are other people I think you want to talk to, so go ahead. It was nice seeing you again.”
He immediately felt like crap. She was letting him off the hook. This pretty girl who looked so alone in the middle of a loud, predominantly gay bar full of men on the hunt to score. She was so out of place she stood out, and even though he craved attention tonight—attention he knew he wouldn’t get from her and she couldn’t satisfy him anyway—he thought he should stay with her.
At least for a little while longer.
“I can hang out with you,” he offered. “If you don’t mind.”
“Listen.” She took a deep breath, as if gathering her courage. “I don’t really know you. And I’m not about to demand your time and force you to hang out with me when clearly you don’t want to. I’ve already been through that, and I really don’t feel like dealing with it again so you can go, okay? Go flirt and have fun and get drunk. I’m no fun tonight, trust me.”
“Maybe you’re the one who needs to flirt and have fun and get drunk.” She probably did. He had the urge to wipe that depressed look from her face. Ease her pain and make her laugh.
A new glass was placed in front of him, and he sipped it this time under the careful eye of his newfound friend. She watched, and it made him uncomfortable.
“I got drunk last night,” she confessed with a nervous little laugh, high pitched and forced. “It didn’t help. I thought I might get drunk again tonight, but this place is so not my scene.”
Eric glanced around the room again, caught the eye of more than a few guys who looked interested. If he wasn’t sitting with Stacy he would approach one of them. Hell, with how quick he sometimes moved he could’ve had one on his knees in front of him w
ith a mouth full of cock by now.
“I hate to tell you this, Stace.” He leaned in close, his mouth hovered just above her ear. He inhaled her sweet floral scent, heady and so feminine, it made him slightly dizzy. “But you’re in a gay bar. That’s why it’s not your scene.”
“Well, I know that.” She rolled her eyes as she turned to look at him, their gazes meeting. Locking. Their faces were awfully close. As in kissing distance, not that he was about to kiss her. She just broke up with her boyfriend—make that her fiancé, which made it even worse. Some jackass she’d planned to marry and now it was over. How devastating could that be?
Oh wait, he knew all about breakups and devastation. It was the reason he acted like such a damn man whore always looking for someone to fuck, someone to lose himself in. Or he lost himself in something, like all the booze he drank.
Look at him, getting all reflective. What the hell was wrong with him?
Her gaze dropped to his mouth and lingered there, and he knew without a doubt she thought about kissing him too. Surprising, considering she just got dumped. “I came to this bar on purpose because I really thought I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew.”
“Yet here I am.” He flashed her a crooked smile. The patented one that got the attention and he’d practiced it in his bathroom mirror more than once.
Yeah, he was a complete shit. No wonder he couldn’t keep a steady relationship, couldn’t make anyone happy. No wonder he trolled this bar looking for his next quick fix. It was the best he could do. It was all he was worth.
“Here you are,” she agreed and smiled, the sight of it stealing his breath and his fingers gripped tight around the mug of beer. Brought it to his mouth and sucked it down as if he needed it to frickin’ live another minute. Her eyes widened the slightest bit. If he hadn’t been sitting so close to her he would’ve never noticed. But she seemed to notice everything about him, and he didn’t know if he liked it.
