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Levi is cupping his hands to his mouth before the next song can get the bubble butt’s exclusive attention. “Oph—”
“HAMLET,” Keanu cuts across Levi by hollering over him and looking mighty mischievous. Keanu’s now frowning when he realizes nobody has responded, but there seems to be only this female waiting to the side for an order.
Keanu waves to me, then mouths, “bro,” and points to the swaying bubble butt.
I nod in understanding.
Hamlet.What a strange name for a female, but each to their own. No judgment.
Levi joins in, flapping his hand in the air to get the female’s attention, but she’s all about the music flowing into her ears. Hamlet’s away with the fairies, so I walk over and tap her on the shoulder.
Zap!
Sparks didn’t exactly fly when I touched her, but my pointer digit did seem to set off a sharp electric charge.
Hamlet’s shoulder jerks, then she stops singing. It sounds like she is onto “Let’s Groove Tonight” and turns, frowning up at me.
I knew it!
The three Bs.
She’s a naturally bewitching, buxom beauty with pretty green eyes on a heart-shaped face and light olive skin that sets the canvas. She’s an all-natural beauty in a toned, petite package, a close Alicia Vikander.
Somebody, call the fire brigade.
I am burning up on the inside.
Three
NOT YOUR EVERYDAY WAGER
Ophelia
I turn around swiftly and tilt my head up at the tall, bearded guy—who must be at least six-three.
I take my earbuds out and pause the song.
I don’t bother hiding my up-and-down sweep of his body. I won’t lie; he’s growly handsome, but not your standard magazine beautiful.
Hazel eyes watch me patiently while I appraise him from head to toe. Bearded guy is wearing black jeans that look expensive; the cuffs rolled up at the ankles to display more of his Doc Martens black boots that he’s proud of wearing. His top half is clothed in a black leather jacket and a Henley—white to break up that black thing he has working for him. He could be lumberjack-worthy if he went the extra step of trading out the leather jacket for a plaid flannie—in say red and black—but somehow, he’s more rocker-hipster than lumberjack. His golden-blond hair is longer on one side, which has my thoughts traveling into possible Nordic ancestry.
“Hamlet, you do know it’s rude to ogle?” His voice matches his style, a little rough around the edges but deep. The bearded guy just headed north toward caveman status with that sexy voice.
“What?” How does he know my Keanu-nickname is Hamlet? It’s only minutes old.
“You heard me.”
I did.
I don’t usually pretend to be daft, but I need these extra seconds to get my bearings. The man zapped me with his pointer finger, and I felt it right down to my toes, and his nearness was discombobulating me.
And I don’t get discombobulated!
“You zapped me!” I accuse him.
“We zapped each other.” He grins through a neat mustache. His eyes crinkle in the corners like they, too, are smiling at me.
“Is there something I can do for you?”
