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“Like I said,” I tell Dr. Keach, “I was waiting for someone.”
“All right, all right. No harm done.” He raises his hands in surrender as he walks backward, stumbling on a few people before he turns to face the opposite direction.
“Thanks,” I say to Rory.
“No problem. It didn’t look like you were having fun.”
“I wasn’t, but I had it under control.”
“I don’t doubt it,” says Rory. “But I thought maybe I could save you some time.”
My gaze sweeps his body from face to shoes. He is wearing jeans and a grey t-shirt, but the outfit is polished. His short, reddish beard is expertly kept, and he looks fresh like he just got out of a shower. This will do nicely. Very nicely indeed.
“That’s the second time you saved me this week,” I say.
“I thought you looked familiar.”
“The vending machine?” I remind him. “You bought me a Pop-Tart.”
“That’s right. That was you.” His eyes squint like he is trying to place my face in that scenario.
“In your defense,” I offer, “I look much better tonight.”
He smirks, accepting my awkward flirting. God, I’m so bad at this. My booty-call bench is so much easier. All I have to do is text one of them, at random, so no one’s feelings get hurt, and ask: Free to fuck tonight? Somehow I don’t think that methodology will go over well with Rory. “Can I buy you a drink?” I ask.
“Um—” he looks toward a group of men sitting at a table in the corner of the bar.
“Hey, don’t worry about it.” My heart sinks a little, but I keep smiling. “I just wanted to thank you for the Pop-Tart and for coming to my rescue tonight. Let me buy you the drink—no strings. You can take it over and enjoy it with your friends.”
“No, that’s not what I—um, just, let me go say bye to them, and I’ll be right back.”
My heart flutters, and I don’t understand this new sensation. It must be the whiskey. “Sure. I can order in the meantime. What’s your poison?”
“A beer?”
“You got it.”
I order his beer, and Sofia has it ready for him before he gets back. I swivel in my barstool to look at him standing near the table with his buddies. They roar with laughter, and one of them pats him in the back. His fair complexion makes the reddening of his neck glaringly obvious, and I smile. He palms the back of his neck as if he can feel the heat there. It’s cute, really.
Rory is nerdy and slim and oh so very handsome. I hope he’ll let me take him home tonight. If this fails, I have to make a mental note to hit the nearest adult toy store first thing in the morning.
He grins as he takes the barstool next to mine. “Thanks,” he says as he grabs his beer and takes a long pull. He is nervous and buying time. It’s adorable.
“It’s the least I could do,” I say, opening up the conversation for him. He seems lost for what to say next, so I speak again. “Are you from Kansas City?” I ask, starting with a safe topic I hope will engage him.
“No,” he says. “I’m from Minnesota.” His entire face brightens when he thinks of home, and I know I’ve chosen the right topic. “Here for work. I’ve been here a few years now.”
“I’d love some advice on what to check out. It’s only my second night in Kansas City. Sofia?” I call her attention, and she looks over right away. She smiles knowingly as she looks between Rory and me, and I point to my empty drink.
“Oh, KC is great. You’ll really love it,” says Rory.
I start on my third drink, and Rory falls silent. His brows crease like he is thinking of something and he is unsure if he should say it. “Well?” he asks finally. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”
“Go where?” I ask.
“I’m going to show you Kansas City.”
“Tonight?” I set my drink down and wipe my mouth with a napkin.
