* * *
JUSTIN SWIVELED IN his chair and checked Pandora’s front door yet again. It was almost 7:45 p.m. and Grace hadn’t shown up. He turned back in time to see Eric and Levi exchange a knowing look. “What?” he demanded. “I’m worried she ran into trouble. This isn’t the best neighborhood.”
“It’s the South Central District, Justin. She’ll be fine. Probably just ran into someone she recognized outside a neighboring bar.” Levi smiled innocently. “Maybe a frat guy or a professor or someone.”
Justin grabbed a peanut and flicked it at the guy, beaning him in the forehead. “Shut up about Grace, Levi. I’m not telling you again.”
“Man, you’ve got it bad,” Eric said through a wide grin.
“Pot, kettle,” Justin responded blandly before glancing at Cass. “No offense, beautiful.”
“None taken. He could take being set down a peg or two.” The woman at Eric’s side then turned to her boyfriend and gently slapped the back of his head. “Now be nice. You have to chill out where Justin’s concerned. So what if he has a girlfriend?”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Justin had clarified this every time Grace entered the conversation, which had been often. “She’s a girl who is my friend.”
“Girlfriend,” Cass insisted. “I have girlfriends. Why can’t you?”
“Bring them over,” Eric said, waggling his eyebrows.
Cass rolled her eyes. “You’ve got a one-track mind.” She smiled brightly at Justin. “So. Why isn’t she your girlfriend?”
Justin took a long draw from his beer. “It’s complicated.”
Levi settled deeper in his chair and stared a hole through Justin. “Dark auburn hair, right? Swimsuit-model physique but with better curves?”
“Hair’s more red than auburn, but yeah, she’s got killer curves. A little more on her than a swimsuit model, which makes her absolutely freakin’ perfect. Why?”
“She just walked in.”
Justin whipped around so fast he almost fell out of his chair.
And there she was, scanning the crowd as she chewed her bottom lip. She looked amazing in faded jeans and a sleeveless green top. He raised a hand to grab her attention, smiling when she started their way.
The closer she came, though, the clearer it became that something was wrong. The tell was in her eyes. They were haunted. Or hunted. Or both. She’d worried the lipstick off one half of her lower lip, and he was sure his friends would notice, maybe ask if she was okay. To save her any discomfort, he stood and stepped forward, quickly dropping a kiss on her lips with enough pressure to transfer her lipstick.
Her eyes widened and she parked a hand on his chest, pushing at him gently until he pulled away. “I’ve heard that hello is a generally accepted greeting in most countries, including ours.”
“So trite, ‘hello.’ I thought I’d do something a bit more European.”
“They air kiss on one or both cheeks.”
“Middle Eastern?”
“Their women generally aren’t allowed to show any forms of public affection.”