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Devon starts telling me some story about Kyra, but I don’t hear a word he says. All I can focus on is the woman on the stage. I have to meet her and maybe buy her a drink.
My eyes stay glued to her the entire performance. I anxiously wait for the song to end because as soon as it’s over, I plan to go introduce myself.
Chapter Three
Erin
“Thatwasamazing!”Ginacries as I step off the stage. “And you didn’t want to sing!”
“Thanks, but I think that’s enough excitement for me for the night… or the foreseeable future.”
There’s already another margarita waiting for me back at the table. “Are you guys trying to get me drunk?”
Gina scoffs. “They’re just margaritas.”
Yeah, BIG margaritas.
I’m not the drinker that I used to be. Sure, I can down some wine when I’m at home, drinking while I get lost in a good book, but that’s a lot different than a boatload of tequila—or as I like to call it, my bad decision juice.
As I sit down to start on the next one, I figure I should get some water too. Otherwise, tomorrow morning, I’ll be too hungover to function. And I don’t want to spend my entire weekend with a killer headache.
“Be right back,” I tell my friends. “Need to hydrate.”
I stand up on semi-wobbly legs and head toward the bar. While I wait for the bartender, I hear a deep voice next to me.
“That was quite the performance.”
“Oh, thanks,” I mutter, figuring he’s just being nice.
“Mind if I buy you a drink?”
My eyes flick over and see an absolutely gorgeous man standing beside me. He’s tall, blonde, and has a jawline that looks like it’s cut from stone. I’d guess he’s a good ten years younger than me.
Convinced there’s no way he could be speaking to me, I look around.
He leans forward a little. “I’m talking to you.”
Man, he smells good.
“Oh,” I stammer. “Thanks, but I still have a margarita I need to finish. I just came to get a water.”
“Well, how about when you finish your margarita?” He asks.
I still have no idea why he’s talking to me. I’m not typically a woman that gets hit on—especially by someone who looks like this guy. His bad boy looks are enough to make good girls lose their wits.
“Maybe,” I say, trying to keep my cool. “If I can still walk after I finish this one.
He smiles, and holy crap, it’s gorgeous. And I catch a glimpse of something in his mouth.
Is that a tongue ring?
Oh man, if only fifteen-year-old me could see me now.
“Do you want to play some pool with me?” He asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I actually consider it a moment before remembering that I didn’t come here alone.
“I would, but I’m here with a couple of my friends. I don’t want to leave them hanging.”
