“You have nothing to apologize for. I’ve already forgotten the whole thing.”
He sat down. I scooted away from him. He sat the drink down in front of me. “I’m really sorry. It’s nice to know that not everyone practically lives in a bar.”
I was suddenly sweating. I never sweat. I didn’t know if it was the pink drink or the hot guy. Either way, it made me thirsty. I started sucking on the straw again. Hot guy downed his drink without taking his eyes off of me. I could feel the heat from them boring into my skin.
When I sucked down to the bottom of my glass he grinned and signaled the waitress. He had dimples…of course. “I think I’ve had enough, thank you.”
“Okay,” he said. When the waitress came over he ordered another scotch on the rocks. He turned to me then and I watched his full lips as he said, “Are you sure there’s nothing else you want?”
Yes, I want to kiss those lips… Oh my God! What am I thinking? I don’t know this man.
“Maybe one more,” I said. He ordered me a raspberry Cosmopolitan. I at least knew what I was drinking.
He turned to me then, and that gentle motion let me get a whiff of his subtle cologne. It was masculine and kind of earthy. It only served to add to his appeal.
After two of those pink drinks, I was feeling bold and let myself slide a little closer to him in the booth. He showed me his dimples again and slipped his arm around me. What the hell am I doing? God, if his warm, muscular arm didn’t feel good on my back. His big hand gripped my shoulder and my bare thigh was touching his blue jeans under the table.
I don’t do this. I’ve never done this. Jesus Christ, I’m going to have so much to confess this week!
The waitress came back with our drinks. He paid for them and then he picked up his glass and held it up.
“To us,” he said. He was really slurring his words now. I was buzzed enough that he no longer made me remember my father, however. Instead, I focused once again on his sexy lips and wondered what they would taste like.
“To us,” I said with a smile. I took out the straw and downed the drink like a shot. Each one tasted better than the last.
“So, why is a pretty girl in a place like this all alone?”
“Having a rough day,” I said. My words were slurring as much as his now.
He nodded. “I can relate to that.”
“What’s got your goat?” I asked him. He laughed. “You’re laughing at me again?”
“You’re just really cute. It’s just been a really bad week at work,” he said.
“Oh yeah, me, too. What do you do?”
He looked like he was thinking about it. Even drunk, I knew if you were telling the truth, you didn’t have to think about it. Finally, he said, “I do my best to help people…most of the time. This week, things haven’t really gone my way. What do you do?”
“I’m a waitress,” I said. “Speaking of, I could use another drink.” He smil
ed and motioned to the waitress with two fingers. In minutes, she brought us each another drink.
I tried to pull out my money but he beat me to it again. “Thank you,” I told him. “I need to pee.” He chuckled and stood up out of the booth. I think he stood up too quickly. His body swayed, and he caught himself on the table. Then, as if he were steady as a rock, he held his hand out to me.
I reluctantly took it. I was afraid if I touched him, I would want more. I wasn’t wrong. His hands were warm and strong. I wanted to kiss him. My mouth went completely dry, and I’m sure my face was as red as it was hot. I dropped his hand and headed for the ladies room.
I somehow managed to get my underwear down and pee and then I made it to the sink to wash my hands. I was feeling pretty proud of myself for not falling on my face when I walked out of the bathroom and some chick body slammed into me.
“What the fuck?” My sainted mother would be turning over in her grave.
“Jeez, chill out. It was an accident; I’m sorry.”
“You don’t sound sorry.” I don’t know what happened to me—my mouth just wouldn’t quit. I am the furthest thing from a fighter that ever lived.
“Well, maybe I’m not now, if you’re gonna be a bitch about it.”
“Who are you calling a bitch, you ghetto tramp?” Dear God…who am I?