As if I was important to him.
It was a foolish thought, one I quickly banished when the bartender placed that tequila shot in front of me. I chose to forgo the salt and the lime and tossed the alcohol down my throat, only cringing slightly.
“Another please,” I said, and wiped my lips with the back of my hand. It was an unclassy move, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to forget about what my life had become. “And water.”
“You okay?” the guy asked me, and leaned his elbows onto the top of the glistening marble bar.
I met his eyes and nodded. “You bet.”
His eyebrows rose and his eyes scanned my face, completely ferreting out my lie in a matter of seconds. He was young, probably my age, and his long blond hair made him seem more like a surfer than a bartender. Dressed in all black with a long-sleeved dress shirt and dress pants, he was cute.
Not as cute as Tyson, though.
Which had been most of my problem for the last ten years. It wasn’t like I didn’t date, or never took advantage of men, or hadn’t had my share of times where I’d been the one taken advantage of. But none of it had mattered much because every guy I did date couldn’t measure up to the memory in my head of a boy I had once loved.
“Not sure I like seeing a pretty thing like you slamming back shots alone.”
I smiled at his compliment and was greeted with his smile in return. It was friendly and genuine, and I almost hated that I couldn’t stop thinking that he was tall, but not as tall as Tyson. Built, but not as muscular as…
“How about I get that shot, anyway,” I said, my smile disappearing. “And a prime rib, done medium. Along with more shots.”
He looked at me curiously before finally nodding and walking away.
As soon as he was gone, tension drained from my shoulders. He was right. I didn’t need to get drunk two nights in a row, especially since I rarely drank. The smartest thing would be to cancel my dinner order, head straight back upstairs, order room service, and spend the rest of the night looking for jobs and apartments.
Unfortunately, I had never been that smart, so when he slid two more shots in front of me, I smiled as he took one with me, this time using the salt and lime he provided.
“Thank you,” I said quietly after I set my lime down on the offered napkin.
“If you’re gonna drink,” he said with a wink, “you might as well not do it alone.”
I laughed softly and then immediately stopped when a wall of heat hit my back and a deep, masculine voice practically growled, “She’s not alone.”
The bartender’s eyes snapped up and then widened. I didn’t need to look to know that Tyson was behind me, and he sounded completely unhappy.
I rolled my eyes at the unnecessary display of alpha maleness when his hand trailed along the back of my shoulders. Tiny goosebumps erupted all over my skin, and I forced myself not to shiver beneath his touch.
His hand left my shoulder, but then went to my thigh when took the seat next to me.
I stared at my water glass, feeling warmer in my cheeks, while the bartender turned to Tyson. “Of course. What can I get for you?”
“Whatever the lady’s having,” Tyson said, his voice still tight.
I watched the bartender move away and I wanted to shout for him to come back. To have another shot with me. To smile all happily and whatnot and not leave me with the man next to me. But that was ridiculous, so I kept my mouth shut.
I looked down at the firm hand on my thigh and fought another shiver. A white dress shirt with sleeves rolled up his forearms showed off the perfect amount of dark hair and a shiny silver watch at the wrist. What was it about a man and a nice thick watchband that made women want to drool? It was so simple, but so sexy.
I gulped and slowly pulled my eyes up to see him fully.
When our eyes met, his hand on my thigh tightened, his lips pulled thin, and then he turned me on my barstool until my legs were in between his.
He looked better than he had that morning and he had looked absolutely lickable then. Sitting in front of me now, he looked slightly angry, definitely annoyed, and as his eyes scanned my face and then dropped to my body where he took in the lightweight, emerald-colored sweaterdress which clung to every curve of my body, he looked…
Well, he looked like he wanted to eat me alive. Possibly after shouting at me.
“Hey,” I said lamely, and looked over his shoulder. Staring at him directly in the eye was too intimate. We were too close, me sitting in front of him, his thighs spread wide so my knees were in between his. His arms went to the back of my chair and he effectively caged me in.
His lips twitched slightly, as if he was now more amused than annoyed.
“Have a bad day?” He nodded toward the empty shot glasses on the bar.
I grabbed my water and took a sip, reveling in the cool water that helped douse the heat I felt rolling off Tyson.
Damn it. The man was magnetic and sexy and irresistible and I knew I should resist him, but his pull on me was impossible to ignore.
So instead of lying, or brushing it off, I opted for honesty. “Yeah.”
I frowned and turned back to the bar. Tyson let me go, allowing me to turn away from him, but his hand stayed on me. His fingers brushed lightly though my black hair until I could feel him fidgeting with the ends, twirling them around his finger.
The gesture was soothing, not sexual at all, but I still felt my body respond with warmth that spread to my lower stomach.
He leaned forward, resting his arms on the bar but with his head turned in my direction. I didn’t say anything until two more shot glasses appeared on the bar in front of me and I nodded toward the bartender as I reached for the one in front of me. “Thanks.”
The bartender grinned. “No problem.” His smile disappeared as soon as he glanced over to Tyson, and I couldn’t help but smile. He was rather large and intimidating, and I almost felt bad for the cute guy.
“Just like you said this morning. My dad’s still an asshole.” I took the shot and as it hit my stomach, I figured that was my last one.
Three shots in ten minutes were dangerous and I needed to keep my senses tonight.
“You wanna talk about it?” Tyson asked.
Genuine concern flashed in his eyes. But there was something else there, too. Something that made his jaw tighten and his teeth grind together. I didn’t know what it meant, but I didn’t like it.
“No, Tyson. I don’t want to talk about it.” A bitchy smile spread across my lips, and Tyson’s eyes hardened further. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here, suddenly everywhere I go.”
His Adam’s apple dipped. “That what you want to do right now, Blue? Start the question and answer portion that I promised we’d have tonight?”
I didn’t know why he suddenly looked so angry, or why his nostrils flared in the way they always did when he was really, really pissed.
But I did know that answering his questions, or listening to him answer mine, was the very last thing I wanted.
“Nope.” I spun back to the bar and got the bartender’s attention. “Two more shots please.”
“I think you’ve had enough,” Tyson whispered next to me.
“I think that if we’re going to talk…I shouldn’t have to be sober.”
Chapter 5
I wiped my lips with my napkin before sliding the plate away from me. A large prime rib and a baked potato with all the toppings was exactly what I needed to help soak up the tequila shots. The dinner had provided me with the perfect distraction from whatever it was that exploded behind Tyson’s eyes and expression when he brought up answering questions.
With dinner done, I could no longer procrastinate.
“My mom’s dying,” I stated plainly. Next to me, Tyson sucked in a breath. I didn’t look at him. I didn’t want to see the expression on his face. If it was too caring, I would cry. If he didn’t appear concerned at all, I would cry.
This is why I don’t typically drink. It makes me a crybaby. I don’t even know why I chose to blurt that out the way I did. I blamed the tequila.
“What?” Tyson sounded shocked. I didn’t blame him.
I swiped my mouth with my napkin again and took a sip of water. The ice cubes clinked against my teeth, and I sucked in a breath after I placed the glass on the bar top. My hands trembled slightly, and I shoved them into my lap.
“Cancer.”
The air thickened before my chair spun slowly until I was once again sitting between Tyson’s spread thighs.
He reached out, pressed a finger against the bottom of my chin, and pushed up. He stopped when I was staring directly into his eyes, and I hated what I saw.
A mixture of anger and concern. The concern I got. The anger made me frown.
“Cancer?” he asked.
I cringed as I watched the word form on his lips. It looked like death. Even though the two words were vastly different, they also meant the same thing.
“Yeah, again.”
He blinked and then shook his head, shaking away the shock in his expression. “She beat that shit in high school.”
Also when I was in elementary school. He might not remember that, but we were together when her breast cancer returned for the second time. I couldn’t remember the number of nights he held me in his arms while I sobbed, so fearful she wouldn’t survive.
My eyes filled with tears and I turned away from him, but his finger on my chin stopped me from getting far.