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“Wha?” I ask, scrunching my forehead before my poor pickled brain catches up. “Oh, that right. It’s game night.”
On Thursdays, he Silver Lining bar often hosts a variety of games from Dungeons and Dragons to trivia, with all kinds of themes. There’s never been an eighties pop culture group, however, so I don’t usually partake. Probably why I’ve never run into this fine man before.
“That’s right.” He gives a friendly nod, his mapley eyes lighting up behind his lenses. “I alternate betweenStar Warstrivia and D & D.”
So cute. He’s really into this stuff.
“Are you some kind of nerd?” I slur, giving him a playfully suspicious look. “Because you look too hot to be a nerd.” I’m drunk. I don’t care if I’m acting like a twit. That’s future me’s problem.
“Thank you, but I’m most definitely a nerd,” he says with a quirky half smirk. Is it moist in here, or is it just me? “I’m pretty sure thatBig Bangshow is about me and my friends, only I do IT work for the ski resort.”
And you’re hot as fuck, I say to myself—I hope.
“But I’m a snowboard instructor, if that helps,” he offers, and my panties immediately dry up like the desert.
Another snowboarder. Why do I have to live in this damn touristy mountain town? You know what you can do with your snowboard, buddy?
I’m about to open my mouth and tell him my current thoughts on the sport when my right ass cheek starts to tingle. Please tell me I’m not peeing my pants.–oh, wait, it’s my cell phone.
I put my rant on hold and pull it out to see who’s calling and drop my head on my arm again when I see Scott’s name on the screen.
“Oh, comeon,” I blurt, before opening the damn message.
Scott:Gwen, sweetness, come back to me! We can work this out!
I ignore it.
Scott:She means nothing, and she’s gone! I love you!
I’m gone too, numbnuts.
Scott:I love you for you! Don’t throw that away because I made one mistake.
Record scratch.
Excuse me?
Onemistake?
Scott:Are you at the Silver Lining? I’m coming to get you!
Uh-oh..
“Everything okay?”
Handsome snowboarding nerd Kyle must see the panic spread over my drunk face as I read through the onslaught of text messages from bunghole.
“No,” I announce, trying to slide off my barstool. But the heel of my boot catches on the rung, and I stumble. The stool topples over, but fortunately, Pecs and Specs catches me by my elbows before I can fall and break my ass and pulls me in to his taut body. Warmth seeps through his Henley, and the zap of adrenaline from almost falling dissipates into a lovely fuzzy feeling. Or it’s the booze. I’ll figure it out later.
Kyle keeps a steadying hand on me and rights my stool.
I burble a thanks before I remember why I popped off my seat like toast in the first place. “Shit! I need to leave!”
“Right now?” he asks, looking mildly disappointed as he pushes his black frames up the bridge of his nose.
Whew.Thaaat’s hot… wait.
“Yes!” I mentally slap myself back to the matter at hand. If Scott shows up, I’ll be too drunk to resist his sweet talk. I mean, of course, I’ll try. I’ll tell him to fuck off to Fuckville where he can fuck himself, but because I’m hammered, it will come out a slurry mess, and he’ll tell me I’m adorable when I’m mad, which will weaken my defenses, and I’ll stand and sway there awkwardly while I think of other ways to tell him off. And then I’ll probably stumble and fall, and he’ll make a big show of helping me and showing me how patient he is with my clumsiness condition, kind of like how this sexy stranger is doing now, and—wait!
