Just when I’m about to beg her to give in and let me go home, she elbows me sharply in the ribs.
“What about him?”
“Who?”
“Third table from the left.”
“Oh, please,” I say, following her instructions. “Tyler Hayes?”
“Nothim– who do you take me for?” she responds in mock outrage. “No, I meant the other guy.”
I glance back at the table just as he takes off his cap and runs his fingers through his hair. Tyler says something to him and gestures vaguely in our direction. I quickly tear my eyes away before he can see me staring at him, feigning nonchalance as I tuck my hair behind my ear.
“Do we know him?” Anya asks immediately. Never one to be discreet, she continues to gawk at him.
“I don’t know. I didn’t get a proper look at his face.”
“You could get a proper look now.”
“I don’t think so.”
“He’s not looking this way anymore.”
I trust her, allowing my eyes to flicker in his direction. Tyler’s gaze is still fixed on us, but the stranger has turned his back. From this distance, I don’t recognise his shoulders.
“No idea.”
“Well, that’s better, right?”
“Better for what?” I turn to Anya.
“You need a handsome stranger.”
“Do you really think I can do it?”
“Is that not why we came out tonight?”
“Not exactly.”
“You promised.”
I scoff. “I’m not going home with a total stranger.”
“No, of course not. So go over there, introduce yourself, get chatting for…I don’t know, fifteen minutes. Then you won’t be strangers anymore and you can move on to the next step.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m dead serious.” And her expression reallyis. “We’re not leaving here together, you know. You’re going to walk out of this pub arm-in-arm with someone of the opposite sex.”
“Anya…”
“You are not going home alone.”
I take a deep breath.
“Not tonight,” she adds, her voice a little less decisive, uncertain. She just seems concerned for me.
I place my hands on the table and get to my feet.
