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“You’re the one who said it was a ‘strong color’, if I remember correctly,” he pointed out after they'd checked into a motel. She shook her head.
“I know, but I didn’t think you were gonna wear it every damn day. You look like Barbie,” she pointed out. He shrugged.
“And she's beloved by all. Fitting, I think,” he responded. She slapped him across his bicep.
“Stop arguing and just agree with me,” she demanded.
“Has that ever worked for you?” he asked, looking down at her while they walked.
They were heading down the street, in search of dinner. It was less than a two hour drive to Las Vegas, but by an unspoken agreement, they'd decided to stop for the night before crossing into Nevada. Much like Galveston, something about Las Vegas just seemed very final.
“You could always start agreeing with me now, it’s never too late,” she offered and he laughed again.
“Let’s just go in here, I’m hungry,” he said, gesturing to a restaurant next to them.
It was basically an Applebee’s knock off, which he was fine with – he just wanted somewhere quick that served alcohol. Since that night he took her out to dinner and dancing, Parker hadn’t really had anything to drink. The fight the night after had shaken him up, and then knowing his time with Paige was limited, he hadn’t wanted to do anything that might screw up that time together.
But the tension growing between them over the past couple days was driving him insane. At this rate, alcohol or not, he was gonna do something crazy. He was beginning to think drinking himself unconscious might be a good option. He led them to sit at the bar.
They ordered their food and drinks. The bartender was a tall blonde woman, maybe even taller than Paige. She seemed to pay them special attention, making sure their drinks were full and checking on them often, and – luckily Paige hadn’t noticed – eyeballing Parker. He hadn’t caught on to it at first, but when Paige had leaned over her chair to dig her wallet out of her backpack, the bartender had refilled his drink. She'd leaned too far over the bar and shown an impressive expanse of cleavage. He'd looked up with his eyebrows raised and she'd winked at him before walking away.
He didn’t really know what to do. His normal reaction would've been to scowl or ignore her or say “hey, I’m here with somebody”. But was he really there "with" Paige? He knew the answer was “yes”, but the angry side of him argued that theyweren’ttogether, and that Paige was the one who didn’t want them to be together. He wasn’t her boyfriend.
So technically, having a gorgeous blonde woman flirting with him wasn’t off limits. It wasn’t like he was leading her on, he hadn’t even said anything. Nothing had happened, really, and it was very probable nothing ever would happen.
Then Paige got up to go to the bathroom.
“So,” the bartender said, appearing under the guise of dropping off their bill. “Who's your little friend?"
Okay, maybe his probability guessing was off. And as angry as he was about the situation between him and Paige, he knew flirting with someone else wasn’t okay. He didn’t want to really be that kind of guy – or at least, he wasn’t angry enough yet to follow through with anything like that. He cleared his throat.
“That’s Paige,” he said evasively.
“Nice of you to take a friend out on the town. She’s pretty,” she commented. Not very subtle. Parker leaned forward.
“She's even prettier naked,” he said in a stage whisper. The bartender threw her head back and laughed.
“I’m sure she is. That’s an awfully nice friend you have,” she said softly, before glancing up. She then winked at him again and wandered off. He turned around and saw Paige striding across the room.
“What was that?” Paige whispered, sliding into her seat. He raised his eyebrows.
“What was what?” he feigned innocence. She glared at him.
“That. Aryan princess over there winking at you,” she replied, nodding her head across the bar. Parker laughed.
“She was just being friendly, Paige. You’re such a nut bar,” he laughed, looking down at his drink. He stirred it up and took a sip before looking back up. Paige was scowling. He followed her gaze and she was having a girly stare down with the bartender. The bartender was smirking back.
“Hey,” Parker said, grabbing the bottom of Paige’s seat and pulling her stool forward so her knees were now touching his seat, his legs on either side of hers. “Stop it.”
“She’s being a bitch!” Paige hissed, still staring. The bartender blew a kiss and Parker thought Paige’s head was gonna explode right then and there.
“Look at me,” he ordered, putting his hands on either side of her head. She finally pulled her gaze to him.
“She could learn how to be a little less obvious,” she grumbled.
“Are youjealous, Paige?”
She bristled, struggling against his hands.
