“You’re not getting in my pants,” I say, moving past him to serve the customers who have just approached the bar.
“Famous last words, Presley baby,” Kent calls out, looking like he’s up for the challenge, and I know it’s going to be a long night.
CHAPTER THREE
Kent
“What are you reading?” the annoying blonde asks, smashing her tits into my arm. I’m not looking at her. I’m too busy watching Presley joking and laughing with the blue-haired waitress as she loads her tray with drinks.
“The Glannon Guide to Criminal Law,” I deadpan, not even glancing at the blonde as I reply.
“Cool.” She titters, right in my ear, and I’m about to reach my breaking point. She’s the sixth girl to approach me tonight, and they are all getting on my last nerve. Any other night, I’d probably be drunk or high or a combination of both and I’d fuck one of them in the bathroom, but the only woman I’m interested in fucking is the spitfire behind the bar. “You a lawyer or something?” Blondie adds, and I swear I see her gold-digging claws come out. She’s seconds away from digging them into my flesh in some form of claiming-slash-branding.
“Law student,” I confirm, removing her hand when it lands on my chest. “And I need to study.” I gesture at the materials laid out in front of me. “So, fuck off. I’m busy.”
“I can be quiet,” she says, making no move to leave.
“I’m not interested.” I glare at her, but she’s not getting the message. “Now or ever. I’m not fucking you, so you’re wasting your time. Take a hike.” I make a shooing gesture with my hands. “Make sure to tell all your skanky friends I’m not interested in any of them either.”
The stool screeches as she pushes it back and stands. “You’re an asshole.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” I return to my books, wondering why I thought it was a good idea to come here on a Thursday night. Under my new self-imposed rules, I focus on school Monday through Thursday and cut loose Friday through Sunday. Coming to a bar on a Thursday night is tempting fate, and though I’ve been nursing sodas all night, my liver is craving alcohol like it’s sustenance.
“You could’ve let her down more gently,” Presley says, replacing my soda for a fresh one without me asking. I’ll consider that progress because I’m that pathetic now it seems.
“Why would I bother? She’s nothing to me,” I truthfully admit.
“She’s still a person. A human being with feelings,” Presley retorts, folding her arms and glaring at me.
“News flash. I’m a person with feelings too. All she wanted from me was my dick. Go lecture her instead.”
She leans back against the far counter, examining my face in a way I wish she’d examine my body. With sharp eyes and keen curiosity. I’ve never met any chick who intrigues me as much as this woman does.
“You can’t honestly tell me you expect anything else when it’s commonly known that’s all you want from women. You fuck girls like they’re a dying breed.”
“Don’t pretend you know me because you don’t. No one does.”
She straightens up, moving closer. “That’s the way you like it though, or am I wrong about that too?”
I shrug because I’m not giving her shit until she tells me something. “What’s with the portfolio?” I ask, and her eyes pop wide.
“You saw that?”
I nod. I’m drinking everything in about this girl for reasons unknown to me.
“You’re deflecting,” she adds, leaning over the counter, and it takes mammoth effort not to ogle her gorgeous tits. She’s got an impressive rack and I’m dying to get up close and personal with every part of her rocking body.
“I’m trying to get to know you. Though it’d be easier if you just let me take you out for dinner.” I glance over my shoulder, noting the heated stares from several corners of the room. I hate having a fucking audience.
“Why me?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I truthfully reply, and she seems to like that.
“You’re wasting your time,” she says before moving to serve a few other customers.
I go back to my book, but it’s futile even pretending I can focus in a noisy bar.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” she says, popping the top off a bottle of lager.
