She’s about to turn to leave, but I raise my finger. “Oh, and a shot of something.”
“A shot?” Chase looks over and down at me.
“Tequila,” I say decisively.
“Right.” Our server smiles.
I feel his palm move from my leg and I inwardly frown. He moves that same hand, and arm, up and around to rest on my shoulders. When I look up, I can’t help noticing his expression. Concerned. Then, he says, “You’re shaking.”
“Told you. Nerves.”
“It’s going to be okay, Lou. We don’t have to do this.”
Yes. We do. I shaved and everything. “We’re doing this.”
He nods. “You were saying. You were engaged once.”
“While I was in college. I met him there in the same program. I think he thought I was from a wealthy family or something. Like if he married me, he’d get a job working for my father.” I roll my eyes. “And it wasn’t like I told him that. He assumed. When I brought him home to meet my dad, well, he saw the house and put two and two together and broke it off.” I raise and lower my shoulders.
When the server delivers our beer and tequila, we both thank her. Lifting my tiny glass, I hold it up for Chase to do the same. We tap them together and throw back the shot. It’s strong but it’s what I need to follow through.
“I’m sorry about your fiancé.” Chase sounds sincere but it doesn’t bother me to talk about it. Not anymore.
“It is what it is.”
“And you haven’t slept with anyone since?”
He said that as I took my first sip of beer. It caused me to spit a little out. “No.” I wipe off my chin. “I’ve had sex since then.”
“Anyone I know?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Well, possibly. The Rocky Road guy.”
“The ice cream clerk?”
“He owns the place. Alan Allen.”
“Alan? Allen?”
I giggle at his response. “Yeah. Terrible thing to do to a kid, right?”
“Absolutely.”
We sip our beer for several quiet minutes. While we do, Chase’s palm is on my shoulder. It moves down a little over my upper arm and back up. It’s both soothing and sexy because his touch is making me press my legs together. Ah, hell. I wonder… what underwear do I have on? I hope they aren’t the ones with the hole in the—
“What’s your aversion to Rocky Road?”
He had to ask. “Marshmallows.” I fake shiver. “I don’t like them on a good day, but in Rocky Road, they’re extra slimy. That and he, um, wanted to use it for, um, you know.”
“He wanted to eat ice cream off you?”
How is he that easy-breezy about all this sex stuff?
“He did.”
“Interesting.” Chase sips his beer. “And did he?” He arches his brow. “Use it?”
Shaking off the question, I take several long gulps from my glass. This line of questioning is rather embarrassing and uncomfortable. Instead of answering with words, I shake my head.
