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Hers did but probably a different version of him that left.
I ordered her a Coke and me one, too, with a little rum.
I sat down on one of the chairs, Miranda joining me so I could nurse my drink and hopefully get rid of some of these nerves.
I was taking a hardy sip from my glass when Miranda leaned over close to me and said quietly, “Don’t look behind you, but there’s a guy at the other end of the bar checking you out.”
And since I had completely no chill, I turned to look and my eyes clashed head-on with dark ones. Eyes so dark they almost looked black. Hard eyes. Unsmiling ones. And they most definitely weren’t inviting me down the bar to have a drink with them. But they didn’t look away either. They moved all over my face, making me feel hot like they somehow saw past my face and straight to my soul. I swallowed hard, wanting to look away, but for some reason, I couldn’t.
Instead, my gaze took in very strong, broad shoulders. He may have been sitting down, but I could tell the man was big and tall. Probably one of the biggest men I’d ever seen.
A dark gray T-shirt strained across his chest and a black leather jacket sat over it. His neck was thick and tan, and his jaw was well, nice. So nice. Stubbly and square, but it was his lips that did me in. They were thick and full and not smiling in the least, so I turned away quickly. Embarrassed. Horrified that I’d been checking him out, too. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Oh my God, crazy pants. I literally said don’t look. And you turned around and stared at the man!” Miranda whisper-yelled close to my face.
I chewed on my lip before whisper-yelling back in her face, “Well, clearly I’m not good at following directions!”
Miranda’s face went from panicked to hilarity in one second flat before she started giggling like a maniac.
“You know what, Ems?” she said, giving me Andy’s nickname for me like Holden did earlier for the first time ever. “Sometimes, I think you’re snobby and hate my guts. And sometimes I think you’re hilarious and as ridiculous as me.”
My face fell. I didn’t want her to think I was snobby. I just wanted her to give me some space. I’d been on my own my whole life until Andy and Parker, and most days I felt like I was back on my own again. Until moving here, that is.
“No, it’s okay,” she said, laying a hand on top of mine on the bar. “I get it. I’m a lot, girl. I’m one of those in-your-face friends. One of those you can’t get rid of friends. And it takes a while for people to get used to me. But, girl, you send me more mixed signals than my first boyfriend.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I took another sip of my drink. A big one this time. I felt bad. She’d been nothing but nice to me and she was right. I’d been snobby. But the truth was, I wasn’t used to having female friendships like the kind she was wanting from me. I’d been a loner my whole life. In a lot of ways, I still was.
“I’m—” I started, but she cut me off with a squeeze of my hand under hers.
“I just want you to know I’m here for you. And hopefully, one day we’ll be great friends.” She studied me, her eyes innocent and sweet. “It’s okay. Take your time, Ems. You’ll get used to me eventually,” she finished, pulling her hand away.
Or you’ll get tired of waiting, I wanted to say. I wanted to tell her to stop wasting her time. She’d give up and leave me alone eventually.Most people did.
Not Andy, though. Never him. He’d been my rock.
“Now,” she said loudly, slapping her hand on the bar. “Let’s get my girl another drink!” she yelled to the bartender, who nodded back, and I smiled at how quickly she’d flipped the script.
She wasn’t a grudge holder and it didn’t seem like she was going to let her confession ruin our night.
I had a feeling it was because of how uncomfortable I was with her admission and I was thankful for her insight. Maybe Miranda Steel wasn’t so bad, after all.
The bartender put another drink in front of me just as I finished mine and Miranda leaned toward me conspiratorially. “Now, if a girlfriend tells you not to look, the first rule of thumb is not to look. Okay?”
I nodded with a close-lipped smile.
“So once again, do not look.” She grabbed my thigh under the bar this time to keep my eyes on her. “But our boy is still staring at you.”
She was right to remind me both verbally and physically because every ounce of my being wanted to turn around and look at the handsome stranger again.
“Gah, he’s hot, too.” She peered around me to give him a gander. “Probably mid-forties. I’m guessing from that leather jacket he has on and the helmet next to him that he’s got a bike outside. Maybe he wants to take you for a ride.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
My head almost instinctively looked his way again, but she pinched my thigh. “Why do you get to look and I don’t?” I argued.
She smiled. “Because I’m not the one he’s wanting to give a ride to.”
I rolled my eyes.
“On his bike, I mean,” she clarified and I couldn’t help but laugh. This girl was a mess. “Why don’t we get out there on that dance floor and give him a show?”
