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“Nah, you don’t have to take off. Whatcha thinkin’, upstairs?”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“Classy girl like you, figured you wouldn’t be into the bathroom. But I’m not going back to your place for a nooner unless I can bring a friend. You don’t seem the type?”
Wow, that was definitely a question. “No, but… umm… thank you?”
Taking a hurried step back, I come up short as a wide palm meets the small of my back. My breath catches, and before I even turn to check, I know.It’s him.
“Hey, Harlow, sorry to keep you waiting.”
I turn toward that warm, rumbling voice tinged with amusement, expecting— I don’t even know. But not this.
Dateless… Heck, I don’t remember his physical appearance being the thing that stood out about him most. I’d thought he seemed like a guy in a pinch. Genuinely nice.Fun.But this man, with his crystal blue eyes and built-tough body, is crazy good-looking. His hair is neatly cut and nearly as dark as mine. And while normally I’m not a fan of facial hair, the contrast of his close-trimmed beard over that rugged square jaw is…hot.
And so not what I go for.
Really.
Dateless crooks his finger beneath my chin, not so subtly reminding me to close my mouth.
Oh my God, this guy just had to tell me to close my mouth!
And while it seems like that might be the kind ofmortifyinga girl doesn’t come back from, somehow his gruff laugh takes the sting out completely.
“I am never drinking another Snowflake Martini again.” And then I’m laughing too, because this whole situation is ludicrous.
“Ehh, maybe just one less next time?”
Whoa, and that wink and smile? That explains a lot about last night.
I’ve completely forgotten about the guy from the bar until he wraps a hand around my arm. “Grady, get the fuck out of here with your pickup bullshit. She came on to me first.”
And here’s the thing. While there’s something innately soothing and pleasant about thisGradythat draws me in, I don’t like having the bar guy’s hand on me at all.
“Hands off, O’Dwyer,” Grady growls, his voice lethally low.
The offending hand is gone before my next heartbeat.
“Bro, don’t be a douche. Seriously. She’s the one—”
“It was an honest mistake,” I cut in, cheeks flaming. I’d really been hoping to avoid owning up to not knowing my date’s name.
“She thought you were me. We’ve got a date.”
O’Dwyer’s eyes cut to me, and he mutters, “Bullshit.” But he turns back in his seat and picks up his phone.
And then it’s just me and Grady, who isn’t really my date or even my fake date because I’m about to break things off before this madness goes any further.
This is going to be awkward.
“Want to grab a seat?” he asks, nodding toward the back of the bar where there’s a second room. “It’s more private. Quieter too. We can get a table and—”
“Not… upstairs?” I have to ask.
He coughs, doing a double take. Then his brows pull forward and his eyes narrow on O’Dwyer back at the bar before returning to me. “Um… no.”
Tension slips from my shoulders and I nod. “A table would be great.”
