“He should though, because he’s missing out. He always had a thing for you. When you came here after you graduated, he asked about you. He always asked about you. Every time you visited, after you left, he always asked when you were coming back.”
“He was just being a good older brother and asking about your friend—”
“Nope,” she cut me off with a wave of her hand. “Did you see the way he said you looked beautiful on the porch? How about the way he’s always following you with his eyes?”
I had nothing to say to that. I was absolutely speechless and utterly shocked. Did any of it matter though? I wasn’t staying, and he wasn’t fighting to show his affection. He was fighting to steer clear of me. I just ended up looking like the pathetically desperate girl with a life-long crush.
Ugh. I needed to erase his image from my head. I forced my eyes to survey the room. There had to be a good-looking guy to flirt with and maybe hook up with tonight.
Behind Brooke, the crowd opened up, and my heart sped up, practically leaping out of my chest. Dean stood in the middle of the throng of people; his eyes searched the room slowly, as if he were looking for a particular person. Next to him stood his friend, the one who was sitting on the porch smoking a cigar before Brooke and I left the house.
What the hell were they doing there?
A mob of people walked past him, dozens of screaming and dancing girls moved between where he stood and where I sat.
“Oh God,” I whispered, the words getting tangled in my throat as a wave of heat slammed across my chest. His gaze collided with mine, and the entire bar vanished around us. He was all I saw. “Shit. Shit. Shit,” I sputtered.
“What?” Brooke asked, whirling her head in the direction I was cursing in. “Oh, damn girl. See! He’s here because of you! And check it out, he’s got that look,” she said, turning back to me, laughing.
“What look?” I asked, trying to tear my eyes from him. I couldn’tnotlook at him. I willed myself to close my eyes, but my body wasn’t listening. My heart was drumming wildly, and my hands were clammy just knowing he had asked about me. Just having him in the same room as me was making it worse. My pants were actually sticking to the bar stool, because I was sweating so much.
The world tilted and slid off its axis as Dean shifted forward and moved toward us.Why was he there? He knew where we were going and he came?
“Holy crap Liv, did you already sleep with him?” Brooke giggled, clutching onto my arms.
“Who? Dean?” I asked, in a shrilly-high voice. “No, of course not. Why would you even think that?”
“Uh huh,” she mumbled dryly.
I still couldn’t stop staring at him as he made his way toward us. He wore a pair of well-worn jeans and a dark shirt that hugged the muscles of his chest and arms. And his eyes? His eyes were still fixed on mine.
He stood in front of my bar stool with a sexy smirk across his lips.
“Why are you here?” I blurted out.Nice. Very sweet. Attractive. Not bitchy at all.
“It was your long legs,” the guy standing next to him said, smiling down at me. He held out his right hand for a shake. “Hey, I’m Ryan Cage—the new guy in this very lonely, leg-obsessed guy’s squad.”
I was too stunned to shake his hand, so I just kind of gawked at him with my mouth half open, replaying the words he had just said over in my head. Someone was obsessed with my legs? I wanted to kiss my tread climber.
Ryan smiled wider and leaned close to Brooke, “And you,” he said, taking a long deep breath, “We really haven’t officially met outside of work. Ryan,” he said, gently lifting her hand up to his lips and kissing her knuckles.
“Brooke,” she said, smiling back at him. “And the mute, long-legged girl is Liv.” Her gaze darted back and forth between Dean’s and Ryan’s. “What are you guys doing here?”
Ryan moved even closer to her. “Your bother threatened the health of my eyes for looking at you before.” He gently pulled her off the chair and walked around her with a very arrogant smile. “Care to give this almost blind man some visuals I could take to my grave with a dance?”
Neither of them looked back at us as they walked onto the packed danced floor.
“I’m not even sure what I just witnessed. Was that real?” I smiled, trying to lighten the tight edges on Dean’s smile.
“I’m sorry he just said that about your legs—”
“So, he was making it up?” I asked, squeezing my eyes shut and gulping back my drink. I needed some liquid courage. I really just wanted to grab onto him and pull him into the heat of the dance floor.
I sighed low and opened my eyes.
He was staring at me, curiously, his hand balling into fists at his sides.
The drink I had made me feel a bit brave. I stared back, waiting for him to look away, daring him to. He didn’t. Instead, his stare intensified, and his lips parted slightly. I tried to hold his gaze, but there was a building depth to it that made my fingers tremble. I was vaguely aware of the glass still in my hands.
