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Okay, so the vodka is definitely less needed.
I quickly clamp my mouth closed and look up higher to see he’s not wearing one of his usual golf hats, and I can see his thick brown hair is slightly damp. I know it’s not still from the rain earlier when I take in a deep breath of soap and a tiny hint of that expensive cologne that makes all kinds of dirty thoughts float through my head, like all that soapy water sliding down his naked body in the shower he must have taken after he left SIG, and him running his palm down his washboard abs and over his happy trail to wrap around his thick, hard—
Help me… I’m dying.
“Is it okay with you ladies if I borrow Birdie for a minute?” Putz asks, his eyes never leaving mine, even though he’s talking to my sister and Tess.
“A minute?” Tess snorts. “Man, I was just starting to like you again, and now you’re saying you only need a minute? Run, Birdie, run!”
Wren and Tess are both snorting and laughing now, but Putz and I ignore them, and he silently nods toward the back of the building where my mom disappeared and where I heard her golf cart putter to life and zoom away right after. I uncross my legs and slide off the end of the table like I’m in a trance when he turns and starts heading that way, following behind him and ignoring my sister when she laughs herself right of the bench again as soon as I walk by.
When we’re around the back of the building and out of sight and earshot from Wren and Tess, Putz stops by the locked back door of the Dip and Twist and turns to face me, and I stop a few feet away from him, swaying a little bit when I come to a halt. He starts to jerk toward me with his arms out, but I quickly smack one hand against the brick next to me and hold the other one up in the air to stop him. I don’t need him anywhere near me, and I definitely don’t need him putting his hands on me.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, taking a few deep breaths before I lower my hand that’s keeping him at bay, but I keep one on the building just in case the vodka decides otherwise.
“Two Sip and Bitches in one day must be rough,” Putz muses, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his athletic shorts when he realizes I’m not going to fall.
“Yeah, well, we only got to bitch at the first one, since we were at work,” I remind him. “We made up for the lack of sipping at this one. Maybe a little too well.”
There’s a small porch light above the back door of the shop in between us. It doesn’t give off much light, but it’s enough for me to see that Putz hasn’t taken his eyes off my face and one of his sneaker-covered feet is tapping nervously against the concrete.
I hear his voice hot against my ear earlier telling me he actually wasn’t okay with me dating Bradley, and I have to press my palm harder against the warm bricks before my knees give out, his eyes still locked right on mine.
And then I remember that phone call two years ago, where I asked him to give me one good reason why I shouldn’t be serious about Bradley and told him to give me the name of any other possible dating prospects, and he said nothing. He gave me his blessing, and then he walked out of my life.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Putz asks, removing one of his hands from his pocket long enough to rub the back of his neck, looking nervous and adorable, but I have to remain strong.
I’m not going down that road again, remember? And Tess and Wren were talking out of their drunk asses all night with all that ridiculous nonsense.
“Booze. Lots and lots of booze. That’s pretty much the only thing occupying my brain right now, Putz. Thanks for asking,” I reply flippantly.
All of a sudden, I’m tripping over my feet as I scramble backward when he closes the distance between us in the blink of an eye, my back bumping into the bricks and Putz’s hands smacking into the wall on either side of my head, caging me in like he did earlier in the bar, all of that adorable nervousness gone and a little of that sexy pissed-off annoyance from this afternoon coming back. But he’s closer this time, or maybe my drunk brain just wants him to be closer, but either way, I can feel the heat from his strong body as he holds himself over me, his chest brushing against mine with every inhale he takes, my nipples hardening, wishing it was his tongue brushing against them instead. My eyes flutter closed, and my head thumps back against the bricks when he dips his face, and his mouth is right against the shell of my ear.
