“You’re an idiot,” I told him before walking inside and heading straight to an empty chair at the bar.
“Later, Mak,” Blondie called out somewhere behind me, but I barely heard him over the chatter and music.
“Fucker,” I muttered, sliding onto a stool.
“What’ll it be?” a man with the biggest beer belly I’ve ever seen asked me.
“A menu and a Coke.”
“A Coke?” He blinked, his bushy white eyebrows twitching.
“A Coke,” I growled.
He threw his hands up and backed away.
“Fuckin’ right,” I said to myself. “You better move along.”
A man laughed. “That was one of the funniest damn things I’ve ever seen.”
I ignored him, not knowing if he was talking to me and not caring even if he was. I just kept tapping my fingers against the sticky bar top, hating Blondie and men in general.
“Put whatever she wants on my tab,” the man next to me said to the bartender as he slid the glass of Coke in front of me, followed by a menu.
“I’m perfectly fine paying for my own drink,” I told the guy, not glancing at him but glaring at the bartender who looked at me like I was vicious and bitchy.
“Whatever she wants, she gets,” the bartender replied.
“It takes a lot to rattle Clive, but somehow, you did it. All five foot three inches of you.”
“Five four,” I corrected him, eyeing the appetizer section as soon as I flipped open the menu.
I could feel the weight of his stare, even with my eyes glued to the endless list of things I wanted to eat. After eating military food for months, every time I was able to eat at a real restaurant, even a dive bar, it was a treat.
“You got a problem?” I asked, annoyed by the way he was staring.
“No problem at all, darlin’. Just trying to figure out how you stay upright with that giant chip you’re carrying on your shoulder.”
I set the menu down, placing my hand on top of the greasy plastic before I swiveled around on my stool, coming eye-to-eye with the man who felt the need to speak to me. “Excuse me?” I asked, my voice filled with venom.
The corner of his lip tipped up. “You heard me,” he said, looking all adorable with his cropped dark hair, strong jaw, and icy blue eyes. “Doesn’t it get exhausting acting so tough all the time?”
I twisted my lips and curled my hand into a ball as I did everything I could to hold myself from socking him in his handsome face. “How hard is it for you to be a constant asshole all the time? I mean, eventually you have to get sick of your own shit.”
He chuckled, running his hand across his trimmed beard. “You’re as funny as you are beautiful.”
“Gee, thanks,” I snapped. “My entire day has been made by your compliment.”
I needed to get out of the bar, away from this guy. He screamed trouble. The type of man you could tell left broken hearts wherever he went. Just the type I’d fall for and then become another casualty in his past.
“What branch?” he asked out of nowhere as if I had a neon sign above my head that flashed “Military.”
“None of your business.” I tore my eyes away from him and took out a five from my pocket.
I was so pissed at Blondie for ditching me, and I was taking it out on the man next to me who had done nothing wrong besides giving me a compliment. But I knew better. Nothing good happened in places like this. The last thing I needed right now was to hook up with a stranger and end up with an STD as a parting gift for my stupidity.
“Where you running off to?” Handsome asked as I threw the money on the bar.
“This isn’t my scene,” I told him, climbing to my feet. “And you aren’t my type.”
