Nina said no at the same time I said sure, and Ollie smirked, pushing his hair off his forehead before ambling in the direction of the bathroom.
With Ollie gone, Nina turned back to me. “You really ought to startposting on your blog again. Your readers are worried about you, if the comments section is any indication. I expect a full-blown search party by the end of the week.”
“And this coming from the woman who said blogs were so 2004?”
“I stand by that statement.” Nina’s eyes slid away from me, then flicked back, and a wicked smile came over her face. She patted my cheek. “I think I’ve got your next blog post lined up. How about you check off number five right now?”
Item number five—kiss a stranger—had been Nina’s idea, of course. She’d been bugging me to do it ever since the night I made the list. I turned on my barstool, but Nina grabbed my arm. “Don’t be obvious!” she hissed.
I followed her gaze, pulse racing when I realized she meant the dark-haired man beside me. “He’s handsome, I’ll give you that,” I whispered.
“So kiss him!”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to give him the wrong idea.”
“Oh my God, Josephine, it’s a kiss, not a proposal. And it’s on the list, so you have to do it eventually. When are you going to find a hotter guy?”
I leaned closer, keeping my voice low. “He was obviously on a bad date. The woman practically sprinted out of here! What if he’s a murderer?”
Nina gave me an exasperated look. “Who cares? You don’t have to take him home. It’s only a kiss. Maybe it will cheer him up.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Maybe it will cheeryouup, then.”
“Kissing a murderer would not cheer me up.”
Nina raised an eyebrow and jabbed me in the shoulder with her index finger.
“Ouch! What the hell?”
“Do it.” She jabbed me again. “Do it or I won’t stop.”
“Nina, I don’t think—”
But then, instead of poking me, Nina lifted herself from her stool and hip-checked me, practically shoving me into the man’s lap.
Mortified, I straightened myself up as quickly as I could, my face flaming. “I’m so sorry.”
“No harm done,” he said, and when he met my gaze, my breath caught in my chest. I froze, unable to look away. A bit older than I was—he looked about thirty-five or so—he was even more handsome up close, with warm eyes and lips that gently curved into an almost smile.
“Are you okay?” he asked, amusement in his expression.
I blinked, snapping back into the moment. “I... lost my balance. Not that I’m drunk or anything. This is only my second drink.” I held up my half-empty glass.
The man’s smile widened, and after settling back onto my stool, I pinned my elbows to my sides and held my drink close to my chest.
He stuck out his hand. “I’m Alex,” he said.
I took a sip from my drink and snorted. I’d never had a man in a bar try to give me a handshake before. “So formal.”
“What’s that?” he said.
I nearly choked on my margarita. “I said, uh, you’re so formal.”
Alex laughed. He dropped his hand on the bar and drummed his fingers across the wood. “Well, how do you prefer to say hello?”
I stared at him, thinking of Samson and how Nina was right, time was running out, and he’d want me to have fun and finish my list—the list he’d helped me with.
