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To be desired and appreciated enough to be claimed with a boyfriend label.
I wanted Carson.
“Who was that?” Dennis asked, sitting up straighter.
“Just a friend,” I sighed. “I had a great time tonight. Thanks for taking me out. We should do this again soon.”
I reached for his shirt and handed it to him, feeling like the world’s biggest fool as I ushered him out the door.
* * *
“Stop looking soglum and smile. You look hot, and the bartender made you a killer drink.” Reid lifted his brows, encouraging me to sip my fruity cocktail.
I was so lucky to have a friend like him, someone who recognized my dramatic mood with just one breathy sigh over a late-night phone call and swooped in to save the day. It was rare to have him all to myself without his husband, Riley, standing guard over his shoulder.
“I’ll be better after two more drinks. Keep them coming.”
When Reid asked where we should drink, I suggested the old Bar and Grille because Carson mentioned he had to work tonight and I hadn’t wanted to run into him. The last time I saw him, he was looking regretful and forlorn as he punched the button for the elevator at the end of my hall. It was a look I saw every time I closed my eyes.
Graham, the owner of the sports bar, slid two more colorful cocktails in front of us. “I’m cutting you two off after the next round. The last thing I need is your husband in here riding my ass for over-serving you.” He pointed his gaze at Reid, a knowing smirk on his face. “Who is your friend?” Then to me he said, “I’ve seen you in here a time or two.”
“This is Ryan Middleton. I know him from school,” Reid explained.
“Nice to meet you, Ryan. I’m Graham Carrick. Why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?”
I flushed with embarrassment, hating that people could read me so easily. “I don’t have a puppy. I have a friend, a very hot, very amazing friend, who only wants to be friends.”
Graham smiled, nodding his head. “I see. So you’re saying you have a very foolish and blind friend, huh? Sorry about that. Maybe you need new friends?”
A man muscled his way behind the bar, arms wrapped around a huge metal keg. When he placed it under the counter with a grunt and straightened up, my jaw dropped, my gasp drawing his attention.
“Boytoy? What are you doing here?” He looked to Reid, probably wondering if I was on another date.
Ignoring him, I asked, “I thought you were working tonight?”
“I am,” he grinned, looking like sex and trouble.
“What are you, like, employed by a temp agency for bartenders or something? You’re at every bar in town!”
He leaned across the counter, smirking as he looked into my eyes. “Sounds like you were trying to avoid me.” He quirked his brow, challenging me to deny it.
I licked my lips, trying to refrain from leaning into him, kissing him. “Can I get another one of these?” I lifted the drink to my lips, using the glass to block my mouth from his.
“How dare you let another man mix your drink? Only I know just how you like it.”
My cock twitched, reading into his innuendo. Thankfully, my best friend saved me from having to reply.
“Reid Morgan. I think we’ve met, but you probably forgot.” He stuck his hand out across the bar top.
Carson took it and squeezed. “I couldn’t forget the second-best-looking guy in this bar.”
Graham smacked his white towel at Carson’s ass and barked, “Stop flirting and get back to work. I’m not paying you to talk, I’m paying you to serve drinks.”
Carson straightened. “No, you’re paying me to break my back. Can’t I have a minute to recover after dragging that heavy-ass keg all the way from the storeroom?”
“Not if you’re using that minute to harass my customers. Go, grab the case of Guinness, and then you can wash some glasses.”
He grumbled before moving away with one last look in my direction. Reid rubbed his hand down my back soothingly and pushed his drink in front of me.
