Oh. Okay then. He clearly isn’t bothered. And that’s good—that’s what I wanted.
Right?
“Well… vodka soda, please.”
He nods, reaching for the Absolut bottle, and I force myself not to watch his hands as he works. He slides the drink across to me with a lackluster smile, then turns to a woman at the end of the bar.
I take a sip of my drink, looking around, but there’s no sign of anyone who could be Stefan. When I turn back to the bar, Myles is leaning forward, talking to the woman—young, blond—as she runs a hand over his tattoo. My stomach pitches at the sight, but I ignore it. I mean, he can talk to whoever he wants, right? He can let whoever touch him.
I swallow hard at that last thought.Shit.
It’s just stupid hormones, I know that. I had sex with him a few days ago and now my body is going into overdrive, wanting me to mate for life or whatever. I just need to wait for it to pass—for these stupid feelings to go back to wherever they came from and for things to get back to normal. At least Stefan will distract me.
And as a tall, slim guy slides onto the stool next to me, I smile in relief.
“Hi. Are you… Cat?”
“Yes!” I extend a hand. “Cat Porter. Hi.”
He gives my hand a half-hearted shake. “Stefan.” Then before he can say anything more, Myles appears in front of him.
“Hi there. What can I get you?”
“Budweiser, thanks.”
Myles busies himself with the drink. I watch him without realizing that I am, until he places the bottle down and his gaze collides with mine.
Jesus. Get it together.
I tear my eyes away from Myles, turning to Stefan with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Stefan. So… what do you do?”
“I repair photocopiers.”
“And you know Geoff and Alex from the bookstore?”
He nods. “I maintain their machine.”
“Oh, right.” I wait for him to ask me something about myself, but he doesn’t. Shifting my weight on the stool, I say, “Tell me about your job.”
He eyes me dubiously. “You want to hear about my days fixing photocopiers?”
Not especially, if I’m honest, but I don’t want to sit here in silence. “Sure.”
“Well, it’s not much fun.” His features warp into a scowl. “People are fucking stupid when it comes to technology. I mean, how hard is it to put the right paper in the right tray? You can’t put letter size in the A4 tray and expect a smooth print run. And the number of people who never check their toner levels—then wonder why it’s not working. Just check your fucking toner levels!”
He jerks his beer up to his mouth and I silently gesture to Myles for another drink. We exchange a look as he slides me a vodka. Who gets this angry abouttoner levels?
Stefan, apparently, because he’s not done. In fact, it takes him a full fifteen minutes to say everything he needs to say, and by the time he finally takes a breath, I’ve had two more vodka sodas and the bar around me has a nice fuzzy edge to it. I’m just starting on another when Stefan sets his beer down, turning on his stool. I straighten up, pleased that he’s finally showing some interest in me.
“Do you know where the bathroom is?”
Maybe not.
With a gusty sigh, I gesture toward the back of the bar, then watch him slump off to the bathroom.
“How’s it going?” Myles appears in front of me out of nowhere. “He seems interesting. Very invested in photocopiers.”
I take a long pull from my drink, stalling in my reply. I don’t want to tell Myles that Stefan is boring me to tears, because I’m certain he’ll find that amusing. In the end I just shrug, as if I haven’t really figured Stefan out yet. “And how’s your evening going? Making lots of tips?”
