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Which is what a person whoreallywasn’t bothered would’ve done.
Nope.
Instead of minding my business and making some damn candles, I found myself atUrban Grind,in skintight jeans, a lowcut top and no bra, heels, hair and makeup done to perfection.
Seeking attention.
When Tristan was very clearly at work.
Just like the first night I met him, he had on thesecuritytee shirt, helping keep the weekend crowd under control. And just like any other time we were in the same room, he spotted me.
Only now, I didn’t quite feel like I could trust what I’dthoughtwas obvious attraction in his eyes.
I could, however, trust these other motherfuckers.
They weren’t shy at all with their intentions, and I believed them when it all came spilling from their mouths, fueled by liquor and marijuana and my blatant flirting. After that confusing ass encounter with Tristan, the brazen attempts to take me home – or to the bathroom – were actually… kinda soothing.
Ihadn’tlost my touch.
“We really should get out of here, you know…”
I couldn’t remember his name, but he reallydidlook good. Tall and sandy, slim and well-dressed, and very,verypretty.
And his breath smelled good.
“Let me guess… you wanna get to know me better?” I practically purred, pressing myself into his chest as he curled an arm around my waist… with Tristan looking on.
I could feel his annoyance from across the room.
Whatever-his-name-wasgrinned at me, the metallic glint of his grill flashing before he dipped his head to speak into my ear. “Certain places on you? Absolutely?”
I giggled about that – his words, and the minty-coolness of his breath against my skin. Biting my lip, I stared up at him, and was damn near ready to ask where we were going when he suddenly snatched away from me.
Or, more accurately, when Tristan snatched him away from me.
“What is the problem?” he yelped, glowering as Tristan got in his face.
“You tell me, bruh,” Tristan growled, wearing this terrifyingly cold expression that sent a chill up my spine… and between my legs.
My potential dick for the night took a step back, hands up. “That’s you?” he asked, pointing to me.
“No!” I answered, at the same time that Tristan said “Sure is.”
Obviously, that eliminated any “potential”.
“What thefuck?” I asked Tristan, ignoring the eyes that had been drawn by that little scene to confront him. “Why would you do that?”
“Why wouldyou?” he countered.
“Because I’m a grown ass woman, and I can do what I want – and what Iwantis hot, meaningless sex,” I told him. “So unless you’re planning to offer that – stay out of my way.”
Tristan’s nostrils flared as he stared at me, clearly trying to gather his words.
He was taking too damn long.
I started to walk away, only to have him grab me by the arm, pulling me through the crowd to the back hallways of the coffeehouse, where I snatched away from him.
“Whyare you playing with me?” he asked, before I could start cursing him out for grabbing me.
