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Preston squeezed Greer’s shoulder. “I’m going to make sure she gets to the capitol okay.”
“Oh, all right.” I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t know what part of Georgetown we were in, but I could get my own Uber home.
“I’m so sorry, Elliot.” Greer hugged me. “Can you get home okay?”
I nodded. “Of course. Don’t worry about me. Go. The country needs you,” I teased.
She scoffed. “More like a bunch of assholes who don’t know how to make a decision need me.”
“I’ll see you later?”
Preston turned. “Better not wait up. This sounds like a long night for her. I’ll probably take her home after.” His voice sounded paternal.
“Oh, okay.” Is this how things were now? Preston answered for my best friend? I bit my tongue.
They waved as they walked out of the bar together. I stood next to the table. I had half a drink left. I could sit and finish it or brave the street for a ride home. Either option was nearly as lonely as the other. I slinked into the seat, sipping the rest of the Cosmo. I hated to let twenty dollars of vodka go to waste.
The tables around me turned over with new couples, or groups of friends. I told the waitress I was taking a moment to finish and then I’d leave. She seemed impatient for me to give up the table.
Trying to salvage the night didn’t matter. It was late. Greer was gone. I needed to get a good night’s sleep before tomorrow. I had clinic in the morning. I could head home and soak my feet in the tub before crawling into bed.
I pushed the chair backward to rise when I felt it ram into something solid. I whipped around.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” I quickly assessed my victim.
“It’s all right, sweetheart.” He smiled.
I forced myself to blink. I made the mistake of thinking I had run into one of the servers. No, I backed my chair into sex-on-a-stick. Holy shit.
“Really? You’re okay?” I asked, realizing I was able to speak after all.
“No harm.” He had brown eyes that were laced with hints of darkness.
I knew this was the part where I was supposed to say something trivial and walk away, but I didn’t want to move. It was there in my stomach, the unmistakable zing of excitement from laying eyes on someone so attractive it made my pulse rush faster.
It was a quick second. A tiny flash of time when my eyes raked over his sharp jawline and the shadow of stubble on his chin. I noticed the points of ink darting under the sleeve of his T-shirt. No wedding band. No date standing next to him. My eyes lifted to his.
If I were Greer, I’d ask him to sit and have a drink with me. I’d ask for his name and maybe even be bold enough to get his number. But I’d never been that forward before. And I wasn’t my roommate.
I attempted a flirty smile. “Glad you’re okay. Sorry, again.”
“It’s not the first time someone has assaulted me with a chair.” He had unbelievably long eyelashes that were as dark as his eyes.
“You’ve been hit with a chair? You must be in a dangerous line of work, or get in a lot of bar fights.”
He shrugged. “I used to, but I’m really trying to give up the bar fights.” His voice was husky and severe. It didn’t sound like a joke.
Could he see that my breath caught? That I was completely focused on every word that came from his mouth even though I’d heard less than twenty? I couldn’t fall for this dark and mysterious shit. I knew better.
Turn around, Elliot. Walk away. I didn’t need to get reeled in. There was a hot bath calling my name at the apartment. My feet needed more attention than this stranger.
“Well, you can’t say something like that and not tell me about what you did,” I baited him.
I couldn’t help myself. I blamed the cosmos for my sudden brashness. That and the fact that I liked how he smelled. His cologne wasn’t overpowering, but every time he tilted his head I could smell juniper and a rich spicy scent.
“Is that so?” he challenged.
I nodded. “It is. You owe me at least one story for running into my chair.”
