No. That wasn’t right.
I’d demanded that she agree with my sexual depravity, longing to take my frustration out on her willing body. Nowhere in our very one-sided conversation did she respond with anything original; it was simply a knee-jerk reaction to my words.
“Is that right?” I growled, grasping her hip and sliding my fingers beneath her shirt. The soft skin of her stomach felt electric, and in a pathetic moment of weakness, I allowed myself to give into the temptation that was Summer Winston. My hand crept higher, brushing along her spine, and tracing random patterns on her back. “Think hard, woman. I don’t want you to answer me in a drunken haze. When you sober up, I want you to tell me every thought inside that head.”
I removed my palm, hating that the contact was broken, and gently tapped her forehead with my index finger.
Her eyes widened, and she pulled away, allowing another tendril of hair to fall across her face. Instead of tucking it behind her ear like I wanted, I shoved my hand in my pocket, replaying my comment.
“Sober up?” she hissed, trying to wiggle away from my other hand.
But I refused to release her. She felt too good, and I needed to prolong our contact to get through the rest of this pitiful evening.
“For someone who couldn’t keep his eyes off my table, you sure are dense. Not that I owe you an explanation, but this is my second drink in what? Two hours? Not to mention that I’ve consumed enough tater tots to feed a small army. Just because I’m smiling and enjoying myself doesn’t mean I’m lit.”
She raised her hands from where they were clenching by her side and pressed them against my chest, muttering, “Idiot,” as she pushed me away. I let her go, furrowing my brows as she huffed and shook her head.
“You can’t blame me for assuming, Summer. Not after you took the stage and sang the hell out of that song.”
Her eyes widened, and I realized my mistake a second before she crowded my space and poked one purple-painted fingernail into my chest. “Right. I see. There’s no way an uptight bitch like me could enjoy meeting new people, making new friends, and singing karaoke without being drunk.”
“That is not what I meant, and you know it,” I said, raising my voice in the loud space and brushing her hands away from my chest. “You saunter up to the bar looking so goddamned sexy I can’t keep my eyes off of you, with this flirty little smile and sweet words.”
“Exactly! I can’t do that without being drunk, right?”
“Fuck, woman. Lower your shields. I just didn’t want you to say something you’d regret tomorrow.”
“Enough of this pitiful excuse of an apology. I’ve played enough games with members of the opposite sex to last a lifetime and refuse to do it with you. You don’t want to hear my answer or trust my judgement. Fine. Whatever. I don’t need another complication in my life.”
I raised my arms, hoping she’d see reason, and for a fleeting moment, I swore she did. But as quickly as I watched her eyes soften, it disappeared, and I groaned, wondering how I’d screwed things up so badly.
“I am not playing games,” I cried, sounding pitifully exasperated with this turn of events.
“Sure. You just left me standing in that kitchen with wet panties and a bad attitude, then ignored me for two days. Now that I’m here, finding the courage to talk to you and maybe even flirt a little, all you can do is look for excuses why I can’t.”
She stepped away from the bar and ran her fingers through her hair, loosening the clip that held it away from her face. The smell of sweet citrus assaulted my nose as she shook her locks free and sighed.
“Listen, Maverick. I get the hesitation more than you think,” she said, allowing her voice to drop and her hands to go to my chest. Where her palms connected to my body, it felt electric, like she’d zapped my heart, bringing it back from the brink of death. “But your need to exert control over every single aspect of your life and everyone around you is eventually going to nip you in the ass. I’m too old and too jaded to deal with this.”
Fuck. She was right—more than right. I was a pathetic excuse of a man, so frightened of the answer to one damn question, I’d rather push aside the sweet-smelling woman touching me than face rejection.
This time, she walked away, leaving her almost full drink on the bar. I watched a bead of condensation drip from the glass and onto the dark wood, regretting that I’d ruined something before it even began.
Chapter 15
“That’s my issuewith excessive drinking, y’all. If something bad happens, you drink to forget. If something good happens, you drink to celebrate. And if nothing happens,you drink hoping to make something happen.”
I clunked my head on the table, then wrinkled my nose and raised it quickly, taking in the smells of stale beer and peanut shells. My margarita was long forgotten at the bar, but Emma, Miller’s fiancée, must have taken pity on me because she pushed a glass of water closer. I wrapped my mouth around the straw, taking a long pull and letting the cool sensation travel to my stomach.
“That is oddly accurate, Summer,” Addison said as she sipped on her Cosmo. “I don’t mind losing my inhibitions every once in a while, but the second I turned thirty, I went from mixing red bulls with vodka until one in the morning to getting a headache after one glass of white wine.”
“I have the alcohol tolerance of a lima bean, so one light beer and I’m golden.” Mina laughed and held up her beer before clinking it against the Cosmo.
“All the more reason I’m glad you both joined us. This is the first time Summer’s been out with the group as well,” Addison said, fishing the cherry from her cocktail.
“That’s right, and I’m having a great time.” I raised the water and smiled as a warm, comfortable feeling crept through my body.
“So am I,” Mina said, bumping her shoulder with Jenna, Mark’s wife. “And I can’t thank you girls enough for talking me through my dilemma.”
