Danger.
I sense danger from him.
It’s rolling off him in waves.
A little voice in the back of my head tells me to get up and leave. This is not the one. Swipe right on someone else.
This man—he’s sexy and dangerous and making my body flush from head to toe.
"Hello, Red." His voice is smooth, with just the hint of an accent I can't place. "Let me buy you a drink."
I blink. "Red?"
He doesn't answer, just signals the bartender with two fingers. No smile, no explanation, just that steady stare that makes me feel like he's very literally undressing me with his eyes.
"Are you Kevin?" I ask, suddenly uncertain. I get to my feet.
This feels off.
Caution lights are blinking behind my eyes.Danger, danger.
A server appears with two drinks, puts them on the table and practically runs away.
Smart woman.
Kevin slides a drink across the table—something amber and expensive-looking that I definitely didn't order. "Sit down, Red."
The way he says it isn't a request. There's authority in his tone that makes me want to do exactly what he says, even though every rational part of my brain is screaming that this man is not Kevin the accountant. Kevin was supposed to be safe. Boring. The kind of guy who'd order a beer and ask about my five-year plan.
This man looks like he could buy the bar without checking his bank balance.
I suppose he could be Kevin. Maybe he used an old photo.
To the logical side of my brain’s abject horror, I sit back down.
“Thank you,” I murmur as I pick up the glass.
If I’m going to do this, I need a little liquid courage.
It burns going down, but in a good way. Whiskey, maybe, or something equally dangerous.
He watches me with those unsettling blue eyes, like he's waiting for something. The silence stretches between us as he studies me. I feel like a bug under a microscope. I should feel uncomfortable, but instead I feel... alive. Electric.
That gaze. Those eyes. It’s like his fingers are dancing over my skin.
"Accounting must be treating you well." I gesture vaguely at his suit, which now that I'm looking closer, I can see it’s designer. It has to be. Tailored especially to his broad shoulders.
The corner of his mouth twitches. "You could say that."
More silence. He's not making this easy, but somehow I find myself leaning forward instead of making excuses to leave. There's something magnetic about him, something that pulls at me in ways I don't understand.
"I closed a big deal today," I hear myself saying. "Real estate.”
"Celebrating, then." It's not a question.
"Trying to." I take another sip of the drink, feeling the warmth spread through my chest. "Though you're not exactly what I expected from your profile."
Another almost-smile. "Disappointed?"
