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Snow sidles over, handing me a beer. “Carter brought along a new friend, Keeds. Isn’t that nice.”
My body tenses, and I give a stiff nod. “Ah-ha.” I knock back half my icy cold beverage in one go.
“Actually,” Ariel pipes up, “I think you guys have already met.”
I glare at her, and she rolls her lips, trying to hide her amusement. Snow bumps her hip into mine, grinning. I’m going to smother them both in their sleep tonight.
Belle side-eyes our sisters. “I’ve missed something. What’s happening right now?”
Nobody answers her.
With a deep breath, I muster every bit of courage I possess and take a step toward the table, extending my hand tohim. My body jolts when his chilled fingertips glide along my palm on their way to grip my hand, and we shake.
Instead of introducing myself like I’d planned, my lips purse and I stare down at our joined hands, blinking dumbly at how nice they look together.That’s weird, right?Our clasped hands are nothing special. But Dad always said you can tell a lot about a person by their handshake.
And this guy, he givesgoodhandshake.
It’s firm and strong, but not overly so. And his skin is smooth, but not too soft. Still decidedly masculine.
His throat clearing snaps me out of my daze, and I jerk my eyes up to meet his. Those mesmerizing chocolate depths pull me in just like they did the other day.I love chocolate. Swallowing hard, I lick my lips, and his gaze follows the slide of my tongue and heat pools low in my belly.
“Okay, wow! Did anyone else just get pregnant?” Snow asks, shattering the moment.
I drop his hand immediately, hiding my own behind my back and lowering my eyes to the floor.Shit!I’ve made a complete dick of myself yet again. My throat goes dry, and I quickly lift my beer to my lips, tipping it back and drinking until it’s empty.
Conversations pick up around the group during my mini freak out, so I take the opportunity to place my glass on the table then hoist my thumb over my shoulder. “I gotta go,” I say to nobody in particular as I slowly back away.
“Arlo,” a deep voice utters.
I just know it’s him, and I know he’s talking to me. My eyes flit up to meet his and he smiles then stands. He closes the space I’ve put between us, and having him in front of me effectively blocks everybody else out.
“My name, it’s Arlo. We didn’t get a chance to meet properly. Now, or the other day,” he says with an amused tilt to his full lips.
The direct mention of what I did causes a flush to work its way up my neck until I’m sure my cheeks are bright pink. “Yeah, umm… About that. I’m sorry. I—” I rub my suddenly sweaty palms up and down my thighs.
There is no possible way I can explain myself while he’s looking down at me like that. He’s easily a full foot taller than my five-foot-one frame. But even if he weren’t so tall, his presence would be enough to make me feel small. Confidence radiates from him—it’s written in his stance, his easy smile, his steady gaze.
Eventually he must realize I’m not going to say anything else, and he asks, “Can I walk you out?”
My eyes widen, and I shake my head. “No. Nope. No, thank you.”
He tilts his head, his shaggy, slightly too long brown hair flopping over his forehead as he quirks his lips in a half smile. “Okay, another time then.”
“Umm… no to that, too, thanks,” I say, sliding my foot back in preparation for my exit.
Arlo’s brows dip slightly. “Umm, have I done something to—”
“Nope. I just like walking myself out… of places. And on that note, I’ll be going now.” I spin away from his penetrating gaze before the wounded look on his handsome face makes me change my mind. I’m flustered and need to get away from him before I do something stupid like tackle him on purpose this time so I can lick the pretty peaks of his cupid’s bow.
Once outside in the freezing cold, I regret my decision to wait until I was out here to text Baz, Shiloh Springs’ one and only Uber driver. I huddle into the alcove of the entrance to Jack’s, my thumbs shaking as I punch in my order.
Luckily, it’s too early for the Friday night rush, and it only takes Baz three minutes to arrive in his pimped-out MINI Cooper. I shuffle out, swinging open the passenger door and sliding in before he finishes rounding the hood to open the door for me.
“Evening, Kida,” he greets with a curt nod when he climbs back inside the car, eyes already focused on the road ahead.
“Hey, Baz. How you doin?”
He doesn’t answer, just grunts, which works for me. I’m not in the mood to be social.
