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Oh my God, that sounds terrible. I should not be allowed to hang around people.
“Sometimes flirting isn’t needed, not when you’re naturally beautiful, Milana.”
I laugh again, this time clutching onto my belly. It moves up and down, beginning to ache. “Oh my God, what’s wrong with me? I’m sorry, it’s not funny. I mean you’re not funny. I’m seriously laughing at my stupidity here.” I bring the glass toward my lips, allowing the remains of the drink to burn my throat to ease my nerves. Mitch whistles for the bartender, ordering me another drink which I gracefully accept, not wanting to be rude.
>
“Okay, maybe you’re right. Flirting isn’t your forte. Let’s start again.” He extends his hand, keeping his smile simple. “Hi, I’m Mitch.”
“Hi, I’m Milana.”
“Okay, no. Now you sound like you’re forcing it.”
“Forcing what?”
“The flirting. You batted your eyelashes.”
I scrunch up my face, unsure if I did that but hadn’t been aware. “I suck.”
“Maybe, a little.” He laughs, easing my worry. “I don’t know why. You’re gorgeous, and the thought of you not being taken already piques my curiosity.”
I contemplate explaining my relationship with Liam but decide against it. This guy has no clue who I am or what baggage I carry. For all he knows, I could be part of a circus traveling through town as the starring trapeze act.
“It’s complicated.”
“Ah, the good ol’ it’s complicated status.”
“We’re not complicated, Liam is so far from complicated. My circumstances are complicated. I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
He places his hand on my shoulder, it’s nice and eases my nerves. “It’s noisy in here. Why don’t we head out, someplace quieter?”
I smile, agreeing, jumping off the stool and bumping bodies with Wesley.
“Going somewhere?” he grunts, eyes wide.
“Um… yes. And you’re in my way because?”
Wesley continues to block my exit, staring Mitch down like he’s done something wrong. Am I missing something here? Only moments ago, Wesley was across the other side of the room surrounded by his posse of women.
“I don’t think you should be leaving with a stranger.”
I’m confused. It might be the gin and tonic, but I’m certain it isn’t. “Mitch is far from a stranger. We’ve attempted to flirt three times. We have a connection. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to continue my attempt at failing with this very nice man.”
I push on his chest, ignoring this warm sensation that pumps my blood and travels to places that it shouldn’t have. It’s pure anger. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this level of anger with any human being before. Don’t confuse it with anything else.
“Milana.” Wesley pulls me back into him, his deep stare locking into mine as I try to understand what’s happening. What he’s doing?
“Hey, leave her alone!” Mitch steps in front, breaking Wesley’s grip from my arm and creating a barrier between us. “I know you. You’re that guy, the one from that show.”
Wesley’s expression turns into rage like Mitch has offended him by recognizing him. What show? I’ve never seen Wesley before that day in the café. Is this another one of those moments where I have no clue who someone is?
Then it clicks.
Emerson was on a reality television show. This must be their connection.
“You don’t fucking know me, okay?” Wesley spits, pushing past him and penetrating me once again with a death glare.
“Mitch, can you give us a moment, please?” I ask softly, calming the tension that lingers around us.
