He wasn’t being pushy, but actually really considerate, so I knew I could back away and escape if I wanted to. The bad part was, I did want to escape. I wasn’t sure if I could face Noel just then. My mind was spinning and the object in my purse seemed to heat right through the leather and burn into the side of my leg.
But I let Noel’s coworker sweep me along anyway. He bent slightly to talk in my ear. “He’s a little crabby tonight, so maybe you can cheer him up for us, huh?”
I wanted to ask why Noel was crabby, but all too soon, there we were, at the bar.
“Yo, Gamble,” the man at my side called as he pulled out a barstool and offered me a hand to help me climb up and sit down. Noel’s back was to us. He was busy mixing a drink, so he didn’t turn immediately. I’d just settled my purse in my lap and straightened my spine on the stool when he finally glanced over.
His coworker leaned one arm on the bar and another loosely around my waist as he shouted over the noise. “Got some orders over here.”
Never taking his eyes off me, Noel carried his drink to the bar and set it on the countertop in front of the person who’d ordered it. And then he came directly to us.
“I need two beers from the tap, Corona in a bottle, and a fuzzy navel,” the tattooed waiter started.
Noel didn’t even give him the time of day. His lips twitched and his eyes brightened into a smile. Finally, he asked, “What’re you doing here?”
He looked too pleased to see me for me to start slinging questions about how many people knew about us. Hell, I even forgot about what lay in my purse. I was too thrilled to be in his company again. Our secret stolen time together had been rare this week. A few longing glances across the classroom was all we’d been able to manage.
My body flooded with awareness. I wanted to grab his tight black shirt and drag him to the nearest supply closet to reenact our first time together. From the way his eyes glittered, I had a feeling he was having similar thoughts.
“I came for a drink,” I managed to say.
His half smile turned into a full grin. With a wink, he leaned across the bar and in a husky voice said, “Then you came to the right place.”
“Hey.” His coworker tapped on the top of the bar between us. “Did you hear me, princess? I said I needed—”
“Heard ya,” Noel snapped, but he kept looking at me. Voice dropping again to address me, he said, “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
He returned with a whole batch of alcohol. “Two house beers, Corona, and a fuzzy navel,” he said, setting them in front of his friend. “And a Bud Light Lime for the lovely lady.” As he set my drink in front of me, he added with a wink, “On the house.”
I took a drink, relishing the way the cool liquid wet my dry throat. Noel stuck around to watch, his gaze dipping to my lips. Knowing how much he liked mouths, I drew my bottom lip in between my teeth and sucked a drop of beer off it.
He lifted his gaze. “Stay till closing,” he said, wording it as a half-question, half-demand. “I’m going home with you tonight.”
The futility of our situation flooded me again, but I nodded anyway. I just couldn’t keep away from him. And I didn’t want to.
So I remained until last call, and then I stuck around a little longer. By the time only a handful of customers remained, all four of Noel’s coworkers had curiously glanced my way, but none of them ever asked to me leave. I’m fairly certain they all knew exactly why I was here.
Though I’d been excited to spend time with him after he clocked off, I grew worried as I sat there. Did everyone he worked with know about us? We were being too obvious, weren’t we? God, how pathetic was this? We knew each other inside and out, had shared more intimacies than I’d ever share with another living soul, and we had to sneak around and hide everything like a pair of pathetic teenagers.
This had to stop.
As if sensing my mood, Noel glanced over. His gaze seemed to see everything inside me, and he started forward just as someone else approached the bar. I could tell by the way his jaw bunched that he gritted his teeth in frustration as he glanced at the middle-aged woman who interrupted us.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he told her. “But we’re closed.”
“That’s okay,” she answered, slowly and methodically setting her hand on the bar. “I didn’t come for a drink.”
Warning bells screamed inside my head as I turned more fully toward her and took all of her in. Something about her, from the neat, precise way she dressed to each and every calculated move she made, reminded me of my mother. This woman was a cobra, and she was coiled tight, ready to strike her next victim. When she turned to look directly at Noel’s coworker behind the bar, I had to turn and look too. Mr. Lowe, who took World Masterpieces from me with his ever-cheerful, energetic girlfriend stood at the cash register, counting the drawer, with his back to us.