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“Here you go, babe.” Casey drops a fresh vodka orange in front of me, and a beer in front of him. “I’ll add it to your tab, Bobby.” She winks and leaves just as suddenly as she arrived.
Traitor.
“Umm… Okay.” I lift my drink for him to tap. “Thanks for the drink.”
He sips and watches me over the rim of his glass. “So… you’re twenty-four?”
I choke on the drink and barely notice as it dribbles along my chin. “What the hell! Did she give you my entire biography? She told you my nameandage. I don’t even know you!”
“Whoa, slow down, speed racer.” He leans back against the bar with a satisfied grin. “You’re feisty too, huh? I can see why you and T are best friends.”
Oh, my God. She told him everything.Wait. “Who the hell is T?”
He nods over his shoulder. “Your bestie. Tell me you don’t think of that cartoon fairy when you look at her. What with the five foot nothing height and pixie haircut. Have you ever watched that movie?” He moves in closer so our legs touch. Heart,splat.“But I don’t want to talk about her,” he murmurs close to my face, “I want to know about you. So far, I know your name and that you have a birthday coming up in a few months, though I don’t actually know when. And I know that you and T have been best friends forever.” He smirks. “According to her.”
I don’t want to smile. I don’t want to be charmed by his devilish grin, but it’s hard to resist. “Okay, yeah, fine. I’ll play.” When his smirk turns to a full-blown smile, I feel my heart pick it’s dead self up off the floor and start beating again. “My name is actually Catherine, but my friends can call me Kit.” That doesn’t meanhecan call me Kit… Though his smile says it’s a sure thing. It probably is. “I am, in fact, twenty-four, my birthday is in December. And yes,Casey,” I emphasize her name with a pointed look, “is my best friend. We’ve known each other for as long as I can remember.”
“Okay, great.” His smile is so pretty. “But I already knew all that, except the December part. Tell me something else. Tell me something important you wouldn’t tell just any guy who bought you a drink in a bar.”
“Umm, alright.” I tuck my long hair behind my ear and think. “Something else… Oh, I’m an accountant.”
“An accountant?” His handsome face pinches as though he sucked on a lemon. “A numbers chick?”
This almost sounds like a deal breaker to him. “Yeah, numbers. Gross, right? I hate my job.” I laugh when his sour face lights with humor. “I love the company I work for, they’re great, but I really don’t like the work. It’s boring.”
“So, why do it? That’s a lot of years at school to do something you don’t like.”
I shrug. “I didn’t figure that out till I was too far in. Family expectations dictated I pursue something corporate. And I’m stubborn as hell, so if I start something, I’m gonna finish it. So here I am. And I can’t quit now, because no one else is gonna pay my bills.”
He scrunches his nose. “Your family all about the Benjamins, huh? That sucks.”
“No actually, notmyfamily, my boyfriend’s…” His head whips back as though I punched him in the face. “Ex-boyfriend!” I correct quickly. “Ex. They were all about the Jones’, too. I guess I wanted to measure up.”
It’s like he wasn’t listening, because with furrowed brows, his next question is, “But just so we’re clear, he’s an ex, right?”
I blush and look back to my drink. “Yep. Definitely an ex.” You lose boyfriend rights when you sleep with other women instead of turning up to your girlfriend’s dad’s funeral.
Without knowing the direction my thoughts have taken, Bobby steps in close enough, his breath teases my hair. “So, if you could choose a new career, what would it be? What do youwantto do, family and social expectations aside?”
I enjoy the feel of his breath fanning the loose strands of my hair. They tickle my neck and send goosebumps racing down my arms. “Umm. To be completely honest, I’m not sure. I’m not good at many things. While accounting is boring as hell, at least I can do it, you know?” I look up and meet his eyes. “Perhaps that’s why it bores me? Because there’s no challenge?”
“Well…” Growing bolder, his fingers stroke my thigh like the kisses from a butterfly’s wings. “What do you like to do in your spare time?”
I don’t dare tell him about my teenage house guest, or my constant lawyer appointments. I don’t tell him about my wishes to be in the gym more often, but instead, I choose work and ice cream. He’s not looking for that kind of information. He’s looking for cute and easy. “I like to read books, and I used to enjoy running.”
“Used to?”
Of course he’d pick the running instead of the books.I shrug as casually as I can manage. “Yeah, not that you can tell by looking…”
“Hey!” He shakes his head. “Don’t do that. Don’t put yourself down, not in front of me.”
“Well, I just meant–”
“No, seriously.” With a gentle finger under my chin, despite his hard voice, he brings my face up until our eyes meet. “Just don’t. I think you’re beautiful, Kit. Really, I do. And I assure you, I’m not the only guy tonight thinking the same thing.”
I want to melt to the floor in a puddle of mortification. Not because he said I’m beautiful, but because I was falling down that rabbit hole of self-deprecation and he had to tell me off to make me stop.
Yeah, that’s sexy to a guy.
I turn away and collect my bag to flee. What parting words can I give him to make me look less like a tool? How can I redeem myself in the eyes of this man who I’ll likely never see again, anyway?
“Alright, chatterbox.” He takes my hand to stop my escape. “No need to talk my ear off. I’ll tell you about myself, you only had to ask once.”
