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“What are you? Some kind of hooker?” His voice is hard and clipped.
I gasp dramatically. “Oh no, sir! A hooker? Hilarious! If I was a hooker, I’d be charging ten times that price. Time is money, though, and this conversation is taking up a bit of time. I’ll have to tack on another $250 inconvenience fee. Do you need me to repeat my Cashapp?”
He huffs and storms away, calling me a gold digging bitch over his shoulder. My smile falls off my face, and I turn in my seat to face my drink. I’m too tired to enjoy my victory as much as I normally do.
“That was entertaining,” comes a smooth, deep voice from beside me. I suppress a groan and the urge to break my glass across the shelf on the other side of the bar. Exhaling slowly, I turn again, this time to my left.
The man seated there is leaning over his drink, his eyes locked with the ice cubes melting inside. His hair is as dark as mine and neatly combed back out of his face. His white button down shirt is strained against his broad shoulders, bulging biceps, and toned back with his sleeves bunched up around his elbows. His jawline is hidden under a perfectly lined beard. He must feel me staring because he lifts his eyes from his drink to mine, and I look away swallowing hard. I have never seen eyes so deeply blue, like sapphires. I hate to admit how hauntingly beautiful they are.
“Happy to hear it,” I mutter, sipping my drink to keep my eyes from wandering back to his.
“Is that really how much it costs to take you out?” he asks. I ignore the way his voice makes my stomach tighten. I’m annoyed that I have to force my eyes away from him again. He doesn’t even look that good. Why do I keep looking at him?
“Depends on how annoyed I am,” I reply, my tone snappy. His chuckle sends goosebumps over my skin, and I feel the full power of dimples, previously hidden and now exposed just above the line of his beard. He looks utterly delectable. I exhale sharply, aggravated with myself.
“Say I match that price, the one you gave to our angry little friend back there, does Saturday morning sound good?'' The confidence in his smirk sparks my temper. I try not to stare at the one dimple that indents his cheek when he smirks.
“For a man like you, I’d double that price,” I say.
“Mm,” he mumbles thoughtfully. Why’d he have to make that sound? Images of him making identical sounds in my ear while he’s on top of me flood my mind. I can feel heat building in my cheeks. Thank God, I’m drinking. At least I can blame the blush on the alcohol.
“Listen,” I say with a sigh, much too uncomfortable with the way he’s making me feel. It’s been so long since someone has touched me. I can see him touching me. My blush deepens so I down my drink.
“I’m not looking to date right now, okay?”
“Who said anything about dating?” he replies, signaling Dennis for another drink. I expect him to motion to my empty glass as well and have to hide my surprise when he doesn’t. So he’s not going to buy me a drink? Hmm.
“What the hell does that mean?” I snap. His shrug draws my eyes to his shoulders and arms. My annoyance knows no end.
“Maybe I just want company,” he says, sipping his new drink.Ineed another drink. Gritting my teeth, I tap my glass so Dennis will know to make me another. His nod settles me, and I focus my attention on this delicious, no, annoying stranger.
“Maybe I don’t feel like being your company,” I reply.
“All the same, what do you say?” Yes! My mind screams. I roll my eyes and reach into my purse for a bill to pay Dennis.
“Fuck. No.”
I down the drink Dennis sets in front of me, leave the bill for the drink and his tip, and walk out. I feel eyes on me as I push through the door, but I don’t look back.
