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Iget my answer later that night when I tell Quinn about my conversation with Phoebe. We’re sitting at the bar on the main floor of Kingdom, and lucky for Quinn, the hot bartender from last week is working again.
Luckier for me, I don’t see Sawyer anywhere.
Not that I’ve been looking.
“So wait, let me get this straight. You think she may have been hitting on you?” Quinn sips her martini, then covers her mouth. “Oh my God. What if she was?”
“She wasn’t.” I run my finger along the rim of my glass. “Do you ever wish you were interested in women instead of men? I feel like a woman would make such a better significant other than most men ever could.”
Quinn sighs. “Of course, I do. Who wouldn’t? At least they’d know where to find your clit.”
And that’s when I spit out my drink. “Oh, honey.”
The bartender hands me a napkin and smiles at Quinn.
Oh yeah. He’s interested.
He clears his throat and eyes her like a man who knows exactly where to find her clit and what to do with it. “If they can’t find it, they’re not worth your time.”
Isn’tthatthe truth?
I lift my glass in the air. “Cheers to that.”
“Cheers,” Quinn agrees. But it’s not me she’s looking at.
That’s when I feel eyes on me.
I look around. Discreetly, of course. But I don’t see Sawyer anywhere.
I shouldn’t be fazed by that, but if I’m being honest... I am.
Shit. I think I’m disappointed.
It must be the sex.
That’s the only reason I’d want to see Sawyer Kingston. He got me all worked up last night, and I’ve been daydreaming about the incredible sex from the other day. Daydreaming... night dreaming—basically, reliving it whenever I can has been at the top of my to-do list.
My cheeks heat at the memory of how his hands felt on my body.
“Wren?” calls a familiar voice from behind me, but it’s not the one I was begrudgingly hoping it would be. “Wren Davenport?”
I turn my head and come face-to-face with my high-school sweetheart, who unfortunately turned out to be not so sweet and broke my heart. “Dash?” I ask, not sure this day could possibly get any longer.
He pulls me into a hug I never asked for and really don’t want. I turn my head when he kisses my cheek, so his lips barely graze me, while I try to wrap my head around seeing him again. Dash was the first man I ever loved—well, the first boy, at least. And now, here he is, standing in front of me, acting like he didn’t shred my heart ten years ago.
He’s a little heavier, with a little less of the soft, blond hair I loved back then. Though I’m sure some women would say he’s classically handsome. But there’s not a single tingle or butterfly. There aren’t even any memories I can look back and smile over.
My heart hurts when I think about the way he humiliated me in front of the entire school. Not that I’ll let him know that.
“What are you doing here, Wren? Are you visiting, or are you back?” His hand rests on my shoulder, and my eyes pointedly look at it, then back to his face, hoping he’ll get the hint. Big surprise—he doesn’t.
Quinn knows how much he hurt me back then, and her protective side comes out in full force. She leans across the bar, gripping her drink in her hand, and I grab her wrist, in case she’s thinking about throwing it in his face. I will not be at the center of a scene with my ex-boyfriend in my current fuck buddy’s bar.
“It’s girl’s night, Dash. I know you’re a pussy, but since you don’t actually have a vagina, you can move right the fuck along.” She shoos him away with her hand. “Buh-bye.”
“Still the same, huh, Quinn?” Apparently, Dash still can’t take a very loud, very nasty hint either.
