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Ethan wets his lips, and I can’t help but let my eyes drift to where the tip of his tongue slips out, making me think all kinds of dirty thoughts about what he could be doing to me with that tongue. Not that he’s even done anything super obvious since we’ve arrived here that would give me the idea that he’s interested.
He did invite me back to his room, but I’m sure it’s a suite with a sitting area, making it easier for us to talk. I’m sure he’s over the crowds and all the talking business. It was probably just a suggestion so he could get away from it all. Or at least that’s what I’m trying to convince myself.
“Sure, get me a vodka soda, and seriously, order anything you want to eat. It’s on me,” he says, his voice firm, driving home the point that he’s the one paying.
I smirk at him, rolling my eyes at his response as I wait for him to walk toward the bathroom before I leave and make my way over to the bar. I have no idea how I’m going to keep myself from showing Ethan exactly how I feel about him, especially since no one here has any idea who we are. It would be so easy to take things further without the prying eyes of the Badger Creek staff watching us.
The bar is less crowded than I expect, and I take a seat toward the middle, slipping off my jacket, resting it over the chair next to me, saving it for Ethan.
The bartender greets me with a smile, sliding a menu across the bar toward me, letting me know I can order when I’m ready. It only takes me a few seconds to look over the menu before I toss a hand in the air.
“What will it be?” the bartender asks, a less annoyed tone than I just witnessed him give the two men sitting a few seats down from me.
“I’ll have a vodka soda, a glass of water, the crab cakes and the burrata, please,” I reply, hoping he sees that I’m not here to give him a hard time like the guys just were.
“No problem, coming right up.”
Not even a second after he walks away, I’m met with one of those guys, pulling out the chair on the other side of me, and I try my best not to roll my eyes, but it’s hard to fake it. He’s about to hit on me and it’s going to be awkward as fuck.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, settling himself next to me, a little too close for my liking.
“No thanks. I’m meeting someone,” I reply, casually but quickly, looking away from him.
“Really? Or is that just something you say to keep guys away?”
Fucking great. He thinks he’s witty and that calling me out is somehow going to make me fall to my knees and beg him to buy me a drink.
“No, it’s real, but thanks,” I say, attempting politeness.
“Well, if you were my girl, I wouldn’t leave you alone at the bar,” he quips, again, trying to be witty, but failing.
“Sometimes people need to use the bathroom,” I hit back, my tone a little harsher.
He chuckles and it’s smarmy and lame. I hate this banter and this narrative that guys shouldn’t leave a girl alone. This asshole has no idea that I was raised with a brother who taught me to be a badass. I take no shit from anyone and I learned far too many wrestling moves from Max when we were kids and he thought it was funny to try to beat me up.
I really want to knock this misogynistic douche on his ass.
“I think it’s a scam to get me to leave,” the guy hisses, his hot, alcohol-scented breath lingering in the air.
“Then I think…” I’m cut short by Ethan’s arrival, and it’s obvious he knows what’s happening. His fingers drag across the bare skin of my neck, moving my ponytail to the side, as he leans close to me, whispering my name in my ear.
He sits down next to me, and I shift so I’m facing him, leaning in close, my lips now at his ear, I whisper, “This asshole is hitting on me. He doesn’t think that I’m meeting someone.”
And as I pull back, Ethan wraps his hand around my neck. The instant he touches me, his grasp firm, a jolt of electricity shoots down my spine. It feels like his touch has lit me on fire and I want more.
So, instead of moving away from him, I kiss him. I kiss him deep and needy, desperate to taste him. My tongue moves with his and I swear one of us lets out a low moan. I’m sure it’s me and all my fantasies about Ethan coming true as we sit at this bar making out. My head is swirling with ideas of where this kiss can lead to.
I pull back, but Ethan’s hand stays clamped around the back of my neck, urging me closer to him again as he murmurs, “I don’t think he believes us. Maybe we should try again.”
Without giving it a second thought, I kiss him again, all tongues and heavy breathing, desperation and need. He drives deeper into the kiss, his tongue flicking against mine making me whimper into his mouth. I had no idea our first kiss would be at a bar in front of all these people and that it would only be for the sole purpose of stopping someone from hitting on me, but I’ll take it.
It’s fake. He’s helping me out. This isn’t real. It’s a fluke and I’m desperately clinging to it as my reality.
Ethan moves closer to me, his knee sliding between my thighs, my skirt riding up a few inches and I swear if we weren’t in this bar, I’d be fucking naked and on top of him.
I pull back, needing air and needing to move away from him before I can’t stop myself.
“He’s gone, Zoey,” Ethan murmurs against my lips, his breath feathering my skin, warm and comforting.
