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I watch as his thumb slides gently over Adeline’s bare shoulder. I expect her to freeze, but her shoulders fall as if his touch relaxes her.
Huh, I’m definitely going to have to ask my roommate what that’s all about.
Lifting my glass, I drain it and push back from the table to stand. “I need a refill, but I’ll follow you to the bar. Adeline?” I ask her. It’s just the three of us currently sitting at the table.
“I’m good. Thank you.”
That leaves Spencer. We’re in some kind of weird being nice thing tonight, so I turn to him. “Spencer?”
“I’ll come with you,” he says, standing to his full height.
I tilt my head back to look up at him. “I can bring it back.”
“This round’s on me, Charlie.”
“No.”
He leans in, placing his lips next to my ear. “Yes.”
I shiver, and the way his brown eyes smolder tells me that he didn’t miss my body’s reaction to him. “Fine,” I huff. “Whatever. You can buy your own drink, and I’ll buy mine.”
“She always like this?” I hear Decker ask him.
I whip my head around, and Decker winks at me. That’s when I feel Spencer’s hand on the small of my back as he tugs me into his side. “She keeps me on my toes,” is his reply.
What in the hell is he talking about, and why is he touching me like… like I’m his? I don’t have too much time to ponder this before we reach the bar. Spencer pulls a stool out for me and nods for me to sit. I don’t do it because he tells me to. I do it because these heels are killing my feet.
“Hey.” A female bartender stops in front of us. “What can I get you?” she asks Spencer.
I roll my eyes because, of course, she would ask him first. He’s never not had all the ladies batting their eyelashes for him, ready and willing for whatever piece of himself he’s willing to give them for however long he’s willing to give it.
“Charlie?” Spencer says, and I look over at him. “What do you want, darlin’?”
I open my mouth and then quickly close it, only to open it again and repeat the same process. He’s asking me? Putting me first? Spencer Pennington?
“Charlie?” He bends so he can look me directly in the eye. “You good?”
“Yes.” I nod and sit up a little straighter on the stool. “Strawberry daiquiri.” My voice is so low I’m not even sure he heard me.
He stands to his full height. “Strawberry daiquiri for my girl and a Busch Light for me,” he tells the bartender. She nods and steps away to grab our drinks. “What just happened?” Spencer asks.
“You asked me.”
His brow furrows as he turns sideways and leans one elbow on the bar, bringing his body close to mine. “I told you I was buying this round.”
I shake my head. “She asked you, and you asked me.”
He reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re losing me here, Charlie. Why wouldn’t I ask you?”
I have his full attention. His eyes aren’t wandering. They’re laser-focused on me. “You put me first,” I say. My mind is a jumbled mess. This needs to be my last drink.
I freeze when he traces his index finger across my cheek. “I’d always put you first, Charlie.”
What? Am I dreaming? Reaching down, I pinch my leg and jolt at the sting. “Not a dream,” I mumble.
“Here you go.” The bartender slides us our drinks, and Spencer slips her cash before I can even reach for my own.
“Thank you,” I finally say when I can feel his gaze on me. Needing something to do, I turn to look around the bar. There’s a couple in the corner kissing, and from here, it looks as if he’s trying to eat her face. I scoff. “A four at best,” I mumble.
