Self conscious, I took a gulp of my beverage. “You’re right. It’s not. Although getting one for free was a nice little bonus.”
Griffin smiled. Not a smirk or an annoying grin. It was anicesmile, too. Not smarmy or obnoxious, like a lot of alphas looked when they smiled.
Goddamnit, Jake. Focus on literally anything else except this guy’s smile. The TV. The mysteriously sticky floor. Anything.
“Guess you’re a fan of the atmosphere, then,” Griffin guessed. When I didn’t reply, he added, “Little too loud for my tastes. Maybe it’s a sign that I’m getting old.”
He chuckled, more from genuine humor than self-deprecation. I took a closer look at him.
“How old are you?” I ventured.
“Thirty-six.”
I fingered the rim of my glass. “Ten years older than me.”
“You don’t look it. I wouldn’t have put you a day over nineteen.”
Raising a brow, I said, “Are you saying I look immature?”
“Not at all. Your face just has a boyish charm.”
I re-assessed his body language. Still upright in his chair, not facing me. His eyes never focused on me except for when we shared words. The part that struck me the most about his eyes was that they didn’t have that hungry gleam in them - the way a lion stares at a piece of meat.
Part of me felt a bit offended. Whywasn’the staring at me like every other alpha in the world? Was there something wrong with me? Was I just not his type?
I was suddenly struck by the idea that I didn’thaveto stick around. Any time I wanted to, I could simply leave. Forget about Griffin. Forget about the fact that he ruined my hunt for a good lay.
So why didn’t I?
Something moved in my peripheral vision. The alpha I’d originally had my sights on fell off the bar stool and slumped to the floor with a groan. He’d clearly had too much to drink. A waiter rushed to his side to help him up and said something about calling him a cab.
Maybe it was a blessing that Griffin showed up after all.
“Who was he?” Griffin asked.
“What?”
“That man.” He nodded in the direction of the drunk alpha, who was being hauled away outside. “You’ve been staring at him half the time I’ve been here. Do you know him?”
“No.” I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “I was planning on meeting him, but no.”
Griffin raised a curious brow. “Ah. I see.”
“What is it yousee?” I countered.
A mischievous, knowing smile toyed on his lips. “Nothing. I was just wondering what your goal was, and now I know.”
I crossed my arms and asked, “Then, what is my goal?”
Griffin’s eyes locked onto mine. “To get a man into bed.” He took a sip of his brandy, not looking away from me. “Right?”
“What if you are right? Does that change anything?” I shrugged. “Your opinion of me?”
“Not really.” He flashed a grin. “After all, we barely know each other.”
The stir of arousal deepened.
Griffin downed the rest of his drink in one gulp, made a bit of a face, then sighed. “That’s enough for me. I don’t think I need another one.”
