Sebastian nudges me when I get back to my feet. He wears a wry grin. “Maybe she doesn’t mind you after all.”
7
JAMIE
“Do it.”
“Come on.”
“Don’t just stand there.”
“Do it, already.”
The chorus of peer pressure from my teammates does nothing to relieve the anxious tension thrumming down to my fingertips.
My legs are locked, and my feet feel stuck to the floor. I mean, they kind of literally are, because the floor of the crowded dive bar we’re at this Friday night is notoriously sticky.
“If you don’t do it, I will.” Felix’s words have my shoulder muscles bunching as a spark of protective jealousy flickers behind my chest, but it’s still not enough to get me moving.
The guys and I are out at Cedar Shade’s legendary dive bar, Loser’s Luck Tavern. The crowded space covered with warm-toned wood paneling and lit by the hazy glow of old neon signs on the walls makes it a perfect place to be on a bitterly cold night like tonight.
The last person I expected to see here must have felt the same. Carmen is sitting alone at the bar. It’s the first time I’ve seen her in a place like this.
The voices of my teammates ping pong around me, urging me to approach her. But my feet are plastered to the floor, indecision seizing me up.
The guys are probably right. I should go talk to her. She’s here alone, at the most social bar in Cedar Shade. It’s not exactly an invitation for someone to approach her, but it’s at least a sign that she’s not totally opposed to the possibility. And I never see her like this, outside work at a place where mingling with strangers is encouraged.
Who knows when—if—I’ll get an opportunity like this again.
I try to summon my reserve of courage, but I still feel knotted up to the point of immobility.
“If you keep dilly-dallying, someone else is bound to talk to her,” Sebastian says. His girlfriend Harper is nestled snug under his arm, sipping on a beer.
“Yeah, maybe Veikko will,” Carter jests.
Veikko shakes his head. “No. I’m scared of her.”
Sebastian snickers, no doubt remembering that he has good reason to feel that way.
Okay, I can do this. I can talk to her. What’s the worst that can happen? She brushes me off like she always does. Nothing I haven’t suffered before. Probably nothing I won’t suffer again. I can live through that.
My heart hammers as my gaze rakes over her. She hasn’t noticed me yet, so I take the opportunity to drink her in through my eyes. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself even if I tried, because I’ve never seen her dressed likethisbefore.
Tight blue jeans that hug her legs. A dark-colored strappy top that leaves her shoulders and arms completely bare, showing off her smooth, deeply tanned skin and forcing me to clench mylower abs as tight as I can to keep from tenting my pants. The heavy black jacket I’ve seen her in outside is draped over the backrest of her chair.
She’s angled a bit sideways in her seat, leaning back in the stool. My eyes tick down, and I see that there’s enough skin showing between the waist of her jeans and the hem of her top to reveal a glimpse of her belly button.
Breath evacuates my lungs. A swell of intensity rushes through me, and I can feel the beat of my pulse behind my eyes. My cock twitches in my pants, tight heat gathering at the base of my balls.
Fuck, Sebastian’s right. It’s a miracle that another guy hasn’t gone up to her yet. Maybe it has something to do with that forbidding expression on her face. It makes her look like a sculpture—something beautiful at a museum that you’re not allowed to touch.
But I’ve always been sure that, underneath those uninviting eyes, there’s something a lot more than hard stone.
But how do I approach her? Even when I approach girls who haven’t repeatedly demonstrated their ambivalence to me, my performances are never impressive. I’m not a smooth talker like Felix or Carter, or Sebastian when he was single, who know how to flirt like it’s second nature.
At least when I awkwardly say “Hi” to other girls, they usually have some interest in talking with me. I may stumble awkwardly through our conversations, but they supply an actual conversation to stumble through.
If I stroll up to Carmen with nothing but “Hi,” I’ll be lucky to get even a grunt of acknowledgement in response.
