I was finally taking my crew out to celebrate the end of a long yet financially rewarding project. I would've taken them out sooner, but I kept procrastinating because, frankly, I wasn't in the mood to socialize. I made up work and family commitments as an excuse, but I knew it wasn't fair on them to keep delaying.So after brooding at home for a few weeks, only leaving the house for work and dinner with Diane and Sarah, I shook myself off and set a table at a bar near to our latest project.
I didn't know what was wrong with me, but it was pretty pathetic to be mooning over someone I barely dated.
I hadn't spoken with Maria in weeks, but I’d seen her from afar. I’d been on Main Street picking up a coffee order when she walked out of her salon. Did I purposefully pick a coffee shop near her in hopes of spotting her? Perhaps.
After being deprived of her for weeks, my starved gaze drank her in. She’d been wearing another short skirt and a flirty, frilly top. Her hair was a little longer, and were those dark red streaks I spied interspersed amongst her natural hair color? She told me she often liked to mix various shades in her hair now and then to shake things up. I’d been looking forward to seeing a bit of pink or blue sparkling in her roots and imagined running my hands through her soft tresses. That was a pipe dream now.
She’d looked fantastic, and I was a glutton for punishment because I couldn't take my eyes off her; all the while, she was oblivious to my longing stare.
Maria was the first woman I started to develop feelings for since Hannah, so I knew that was why I felt so...bereft. Iknewthat. I just needed my body to catch up with my head. What I needed was to get back on that metaphorical saddle, and all will be right again.
A slim arm entered my vision, and my Guinness was placed in front of me. I glanced up at the bartender to murmur my thanks. Speaking of moving on...
The blonde beauty stood so close to me that I could see the specks in her blue eyes.
They were the wrong shade of blue.
"Here you go," she breathed. Her perfume tickled my nose, and I turned my head away.
She went around the table, placing drinks in front of people, uncaring which belonged where. Not that they minded. They all tipped their heads back and dolled out attention, no doubt wanting to shoot their shot if I wasn't game. She simpered and giggled, flicking her hair back and reaching down to smack a shoulder in jest. Yet her eyes continued to shoot me brazen glances, biting her bottom lip as her heated gaze stroked me. Keeping my expression neutral, I took a deep gulp of my Guinness as I held eye contact. I played it cool, but that didn't mean I wasn't debating taking her home.
"Can I get you gentlemen anything else?" She spoke to the table, but her eyes were fixed on me. I knew that "anything else" meant either a basket of fries or a quick fuck in the bathroom.
There were a few stilted coughs around the table, and my ankle was kicked. Idiots.
"We're okay for now. Thank you." I tipped my glass at her.
Her mouth turned down in a quick pout before she tucked her tray under her arm and flounced away. Her ass swayed in that practiced feminine calling card, knowing she had an enraptured audience.
"Lucky bastard." Harry shook his head as he drank his beer. He'd met a couple of my past casual bed partners and seen me leave with pretty women a time or two. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that the same scenario would play out tonight. A hot bartender who was giving me all the come hither moves? It was a given.
So why did my gut curdle at the thought?
"Hey," James, one of my senior builders, waved his phone at me. "My cousin works 'round the corner, and I invited him for drinks. Is that cool? He has to head out to dinner later, so he won't stay long."
I shrugged. "Sure. What does he do?"
"He's a lawyer. He's kinda douchy but harmless."
"Oh, well, by all means, invite him," I sarcastically grumbled into my glass.
James laughed and shook his head. "You've been a moody bastard lately. You need to get laid." His head jerked toward the bar where the solution to my supposed issue lay.
I made a noncommittal noise as I sipped at my drink. He wasn't wrong. Iwasmoody. But I knew that fucking another woman wasn't the solution. I took a slow sip of my drink, the stout no longer tasted as refreshing.
How could I miss someone I'd never had?
But you did have her.
For a brief moment, Maria was mine.
Not for the first time, I thought of the last words she'd said to me. I rolled them around in my head, conjuring up different scenarios of how I should've reacted and what I should've said.
I wanted to have sex with Maria; of course I did. But the act itself wasn't at the forefront of my mind when we were together. Spending time with Maria, chatting with her, and getting to know her personality, quirks, and mannerisms—those were the things I looked forward to the most. Sex was a by-product of what I assumed our dates would eventually lead to; what we were building up for.
It was all pointless now because I fucked it all up. Even if I suddenly felt ready to date seriously, it wouldn't matter. Maria would never give me the time of day now.
I glanced up at the bartender, my eyes roaming her delectable form, her pronounced cleavage, and tight jeans.
