"You'd be surprised."
Ducking her head, she murmurs as a pretty blush spreads across her cheeks, "Actually, I wouldn't be."
And… I'm back in the game. She may not want to be affected by me, but she is.
Changing the subject to something safer, I ask, “So, you live around here?”
“Yeah, but I’ve lived outside Nashville for about eight years. We—” She stops herself, but not before I notice her mistake. “I have a house in the suburbs. Do you live in Nashville?”
I nod. “Yeah, got a condo downtown. And you need to take your shot for violating the rules of our drinking game,” I grin, pushing a shot in her direction.
“Dammit! I was hoping you didn’t notice.” With suspicion, she eyes the tequila before muttering, “Oh, what the hell,” and tossing it back.
“Atta girl,” I wink. “Because I’m a team player, I’ll even take one, too.” The tequila burns as it goes down, and I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand to hide my wince. “You mentioned you liked the Stones and OneRepublic. Any other types of music you like?”
“I listen to rock and pop. I love everything from Tom Petty to Taylor Swift.”
“We live in the country music capital of the world,” I tease, feeling even more confident in my anonymity.
Smiling, Annabelle responds, “You sound like my best friend. But country music is so depressing. Redneck and corny. Every song sounds the same to me. Trucks and drinking and cheating women, oh my!” She shakes her head. “It’s just not my jam.”
Ouch, that one hurt.
“Based on the insulted look on your face and the hat on your head, I’m guessing you like it,” she snickers.
“Guilty as charged.”
“I’m going to search for a less divisive topic of conversation now,” she jokes. “Favorite place you’ve ever been?”
“Here with you.”
“Obviously,” she drawls, returning my smile. “What was your first impression of me?”
“I was lost in thought, mulling over what had happened today. Didn’t pay much attention until you dished out a hefty portion of sass and side-eyes.”
My gaze flits down to her T-shirt again. “Oh, and by the way, I lied earlier.”
“Lied? About what?”
“I wasn’t looking at your shirt.” Biting back a smile, I enjoy watching her absorb the meaning behind my words as an outraged grin spreads across her mouth.
“I should call you an asshole again.”
Studying Annabelle’s features, I catalogue each one. Her blonde hair with mahogany streaks, her wide and beguiling eyes framed by long lashes, her pert nose that’s upturned just a bit, and her lips. Those bee-stung lips that call to me like a siren’s song.
She’s fucking beautiful.
“You should.” Lowering my voice, I add, “I’m sorry about how I treated you when you walked in. I had no place being rude.”
Annabelle takes a long drink of her wine. “Water under the bridge.” She shoots me a hard look. “But it’s your time to drink now, buddy.” She lowers her voice, imitating me. “Just mulling over what happened today.” Returning to her normal tone, she teases, “That sure sounds like you were thinking about the breakup with your ex. Drink up!”
“Damn, I stepped right into that one.” I slug back another tequila shot. Gesturing towards the small glass in front of Annabelle, I ask, “Aren’t you going to join me? I took one with you.”
Shooting me a saucy smile, she demurs, “I’ll pass.”
“That’s cold, Yankee!”
“So, you were telling me what you thought of me,” she presses, propping her chin up on her hand. “Tell me more.”
