When Friday night arrived, my desire to leave the house diminished, and I nearly canceled. I had my keys in my hand and almost dropped them. But something drove me out. And right now, I couldn’t shake the feeling that thesomethingwas looking straight at me with fuck-me eyes and lips so red and full, it was easy to imagine them wrapped around my cock.
When Jamie’s set was halfway over, I headed to the patio for a smoke. I kept telling myself I’d quit, but I didn’t have any reason. I ran my fingers through my hair, debating whether I should bolt or not. I felt a tug, a yearning to go back in there and buy her a drink.
Before I could finish the thought, the patio door opened, and two women stepped out—the girl from the bar and her friend.
The friend marched over, and she followed almost timidly behind, her gray eyes full of apology. “Hey, could I bum a smoke?” the blonde asked, blue eyes watching hopefully, the way a lioness watches its prey.
My eyes darted to the woman behind her, lust awakening in my loins as I took in the curve of her jaw and her red-as-sin lips. “Yeah, sure,” I said, fishing my pack from my back pocket. I held it for the blonde without looking at her, and she took one. I heard the click of a lighter and the intake of breath as she inhaled, but my focus was on the dark-haired one. She was biting on her bottom lip, her gaze shifting from me to her friend.
“Gwen, hold this,” her friend said, shoving the cigarette at her. “I have to pee!”
“Kelsey!” the brunette, Gwen, called, but the girl—Kelsey—carried on like she hadn’t heard her. The patio door opened, and the sounds of the crowded bar and the band spilled out until they were silenced the moment the door clanged shut behind her.
I chuckled, rubbing at my beard. Subtle.
Gwen flushed and drew in a deep breath. “So…” she said, peering down at the cigarette and watching it burn for a moment.
“Gwen, is it?” I asked, feeling amused.
“Yes, Gwen.” She nodded. “And you are, Thor?”
“What?”
She blushed. “I mean, what’s your name?”
I laughed. She was like a breath of fresh air, and she blew through me with the warmth of sunshine. “Alaric.”
“Huh,” she said thoughtfully. “Well, Alaric. It’s nice to meet you, and I apologize for Kelsey.” She held the smoke out to me. “Neither one of us smokes, so…”
Laughing again, I took it from her, our fingers brushing ever so slightly. I put it out against the railing and let it drop into an ashtray, my gaze never leaving her. A moment of silence stretched between us as we eyed each other with curiosity and fascination.
“So…do you come here often?” she drawled, her lips curving in a smile that smashed into me like a tidal wave.
I laughed at her cheesy line. “Not usually, no. A friend of mine is playing tonight and told me about it. Figured I’d come to see him play.”
“You’re missing the show,” she pointed out, arching a delicate brow at me.
“I wouldn’t say that,” I replied, leaning against the railing and tossing her a smile that I knew charmed her when her eyes took on a dream-like quality.
She blinked a few times, her thick lashes brushing against the lenses of her glasses. She cleared her throat, beaming. Her white teeth offered a sharp contrast to her red lips. My cock stirred with desire.
“So, if you don’t comehereoften, where do you usually go on a Friday night?” she asked, her dimpled smile stoking my attraction to her. She was charming, cute. Engaging.
“Well, I’m new to the area. So, I don’t really do much, yet,” I explained, unable to keep my lips from curving. Smiles hadn’t come easily for me over the last few years, and yet here a perfect stranger was, coaxing them from me effortlessly like she’d done it a hundred times before.
“Oh! Well, I’d be happy to give you a tour if you’d like. I’ve lived here my whole life,” she said, her eyes shining. “Let’s start with my favourite bar.” She leaned forward enough to reveal some of her ample cleavage and gestured grandly toward the Watering Hole, waving her hands dramatically. “Tada!”
“This is your favourite bar?” I grinned.
“There’re not many in town, unfortunately.” She laughed, straightening and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She had a cute laugh—the lilt of it, joyful and free, was the kind that made you want to hear it repeatedly.
“Well, so far, I’m impressed. It’s a nice bar.”
“You should try the Shiny Bootleg Pale Ale. It’s so good! They make it at a nearby microbrewery.”
“You’re a beer girl?” I arched a brow, mesmerized.
“I enjoy a good ale every now and then, but you won’t catch me drinking a Coors.” She shivered with disgust, and I chuckled lightly.
