“So?” he asks, leaning in a little more and waiting for my answer.
“Definitely not,” I say, taking a sip of my whiskey and letting the warm flavor hit my tongue.
I look at him over the rim of my tumbler, and he lets out a small laugh. He looks like the type of man that smiles a lot. Which is very sexy. His dark wavy hair is cut short, but looks long enough to run your fingers through it. There’s so much wave on top, I bet if he grew it long, he’d have gorgeous curls. It’s not fair for a man to be so pretty.
“Good thing I didn’t ask,” he says, and his scent travels toward me as he shifts in a little closer.
He smells like warm amber and honey, and I move toward him unconsciously.
Reaching between us, he takes the glass from my hand but doesn’t make contact with my fingers. I’m mesmerized by him, and I easily let him take it from me.
I watch as he turns the glass, placing his lips where mine were, and takes a drink of the whiskey. My eyes move to his throat, where his prominent Adam’s apple moves and he drinks the liquid down. Once he’s finished, he pulls his lips away slightly, then licks the remaining drop left on the rim of the glass.
It’s erotic and sexy, and I’ve never been so weak at the knees from something so simple.
“I thought since I paid for it, I should at least get a taste.”
He turns the glass so that the same spot is facing me, and places the glass gently back in my hand. This time, though, his fingers make contact with mine. I don’t speak as they linger there, the two of us locked in an invisible embrace as his fingertips travel to my wrist. He holds them there lightly as he smiles at me again.
This man’s smile could knock down a building.
Bringing the glass back to my lips, I taste where his mouth was. I don’t know what possesses me in this moment, but seeing him do it makes the need to do the same that much greater. I’ve never behaved like this before, never been this flirtatious with a complete stranger.
I down the whiskey, drinking what’s left in the glass, and it burns the back of my throat. His hand moves from my wrist and takes the glass from me. He sets it on the bar, and then looks back at me, smiling.
“Tell me your name.”
He’s demanding something I’m not sure I want to give. If I tell him, then we’re no longer strangers and the spell may be broken. He’s ungodly gorgeous and obviously has money, but this isn’t the type of guy I want to get tangled up with.
He’s the type of man I saw all over Yale. He’d take me out and go on and on about his bank account commas while I tried to talk about Fermat’s Last Theorem. He’s entirely too charming for my taste, and a man in a place like this isn’t the kind of man I’m looking to settle down with.
“Let’s not, shall we?” I say, turning away to the bar to order another drink. I look for the bartender again and talk over my shoulder to him. “Let’s pretend this is the Emerald City and you’re the wizard behind the curtain.”
His hand slides to my hip, and I stop my movement, looking back up to his eyes. There’s a desperation there now, as if he’s pleading for me to give him something. Anything. His smile is gone, and there’s a vulnerable fear in its place. I want to comfort it.
“Please.”
I see his lips move, unable to hear anything over the sound of the music. I take a step toward him and lean up to his ear, giving him what he wants.
“Mallory.”
When I pull back, I’m suddenly shy, like telling him my name is exposing something rare in me. It’s just my name. Why does it seem so intimate?
Looking over across the bar, I see Paige is still there, chatting with the guy from earlier. She hasn’t moved from her spot, and as if she senses me watching her, she looks over at me. She looks at the man in front of me, and then looks back at me, raising her eyebrows. I shrug one shoulder a little and the heat of a blush creeps across my cheeks. I’m not doing anything bad. I don’t know why I’m embarrassed.
She gives me a nod and taps her watch. It’s our signal to wrap it up. She then turns back to her guy.
“Are you leaving?”
Looking up to him, I smile. “It appears so.”
“Give me your number.”
It’s another demand. There’s no question about his approach. He’s obviously used to getting what he wants. I look around hesitantly, trying to come up with a good excuse not to.
“If I ask your friend over there, will she give it to me?”
My smile is smug when I look over at Paige and back to him. “Not a chance.”
Paige is always keeping guys at a distance from me, saying that I need to wait on the right one and not waste time on losers in college. She was right in saying that most of the guys in college were snobs, and maybe this guy is, too. But never giving myself the opportunity to make a mistake when it comes to men has left me sheltered and inexperienced at twenty-three. I want this guy to disappear, but at the same time I don’t.