Six of Hearts(37)

I cough. “Hello.”

He gives me a casual glance, then says, “Hey.”

“Do you, uh, come here often?”

His chest starts to move up and down in silent laughter. I expect him to drop the whole thing and tell me my line was shit, but he goes with it. “Yeah. Do you?”

“No, actually. This is my first time.”

A smirk. “Your first time, eh?”

God, he really loves his virgin jokes. “Yes. My name’s Matilda. What’s yours?”

“Royston. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Matilda,” he replies, offering his hand.

I sputter a laugh. “Royston, seriously?”

“You got a problem with my name?”

I try to keep a straight face. “Nope. None at all.”

“Good.”

I open my mouth to say something, but I’ve got nothing. I let out a long sigh.

Jay laughs. “What’s wrong?”

“Ugh, I give up.”

Knocking back another gulp of beer, he gets up from his stool. “Okay, you want me to show you how it’s done?”

“Eh, yes?” I reply eagerly.

“I’ll be right back.”

He walks away, and I turn back to the bar, running a finger over the rim of my glass. The stool next to mine squeaks, sliding closer. I feel Jay’s arm touch off mine as he takes my hand in his. He’s all up in my space, and it’s hard to breathe, hard to focus.

“Hey,” he murmurs huskily, his gaze boring into mine.

“Hi,” I croak.

“Great eyes,” he goes on, voice low.

“Oh. Thanks.”

His gaze wanders down my legs to my feet, and it feels like his mere presence is taking up every inch of my personal space. Normally, if a man did this to me, I’d be running in the opposite direction. But Jay has this way about him that makes me like the touching, as though he is a magnet and I’m a piece of metal. I like the closeness, even though in this role-play we’re supposed to be complete strangers.

“Fantastic shoes.”

“Thanks. Again.”

Now he just keeps looking at me, his eyes flickering back and forth between mine. I get lost in their greenish-brown depths, and his mouth moves closer, close enough so that I can feel his breath on me. My hand is still in his, growing sweatier by the second. His tongue sneaks out to wet his lips, and for a brief moment I forget what we’re doing, because it feels like he might kiss me.

“Darlin’,” he breathes softly, and I melt.

Involuntarily, I squeeze my thighs together tight, suddenly aching between my legs. A tiny, almost inaudible gasp escapes me. This is it. He’s actually going to do it.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he pulls away, giving me a sly grin. “Well, how did I do?”

I knock back the last of my drink in order to give myself a chance to recuperate. “Uh, yeah, you did okay. You didn’t really say much, though.”

“I never really need to,” he answers smugly.

“Well, we mere mortals don’t have that luxury.”

“Sometimes I go with: ‘Do you know what you’re doing later? No? That’s funny, ’cos I do.’”

A burst of laughter escapes me. “You’re joking! That works?”

He nods his head. “Yup. Like a charm.”

“I think you could probably say, ‘I’ll be Burger King and you be McDonalds. I’ll have it my way and you’ll be lovin’ it,’ and you’d probably still score.”

Jay slams his hand down on the bar top. “That’s a good one! Did you come up with that all by yourself?”

“Are you being sarcastic? And no, I’m not a complete cheeseball.”

When I look at him, he’s turned to face me, his chin resting on his fist, his hair hanging slightly over his forehead. He couldn’t look any more edible.

“You’re more appealing than you think, Matilda. It’s your mindset that’s pulling you down.”

Okay. Can I please have the first part of that quote engraved in gold and hung over my mantelpiece forevermore? The only response I can come up with is my usual unladylike snort.

He shakes his head, and then a man wearing a black leather jacket and biker boots walks into the pub. He gives Jay a nod and then goes to sit at a table by himself.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Jay says, leaving me and making his way over to the man. They shake hands, and Jay pulls a small, thin package from the inside pocket of his coat. He hands it to the man, and the man gives him an A4-sized envelope in return. Then they sit and talk for a minute before shaking hands again, and the man leaves. Jay returns to his stool beside me.

“What was that all about?”

“Just a man about a dog.”