“Keywords being ‘if I want’.”
I smile and tangle our fingers together. “I’d like you to. How about that?”
“I’m sure you would, playboy.” She pauses then lowers her voice and leans in. “You don’t have to try so hard, you know? I know this is the show we’re looking to portray.” She stills, her brows furrowed. “This is for show, right?” Cautiously glancing around to make sure no one hears her.
I frown slightly as she waits for me to answer. I’m not sure how to answer and I don’t want to confuse things.
Yet anyway.
I’m good at that. Fucking up a good thing. I might as well let the water boil over and jump right in.
I’m such a jerk.
I drop her hand and swipe a piece of hair behind her ear. “What do you think?”
She stutters a little, eyes wide. “I-I’m not sure… you’re good at the flirtation and charm thing,” she stands a little taller and hardens her gaze. “I’m sure you’ve used those lines a million times. Tell me, do they work?”
She’s mad. Either she’s thinking of things she’s heard or she’s doubting who I am.
Or worse, she thinks I’m playing her.
I know that thought crossed my mind earlier, but the more I talk with her, the more I don’t want her to be a plaything. Chess deserves so much more than that, even if all I can offer her is ‘right now’.
‘Right now,’ I’d be a hundred percent all in for her.
I give her an out because I don’t want to muddy the waters, but my mind is racing.
“Yes, showgirl,” I brush her arm as she blushes deeper. “It’s for show. We need to be seen, right?” I choke out the words.
When she looked back at me, the phrase 'for show' didn't feel so good.
This overwhelming feeling to tell her I’m not playing comes over me.
Get it together, Jackson. It won’t work.
“Here you go guys, enjoy!” The bartender places all the drinks down loudly and pulls us from our trance.
“You better take those back to the guys before they dehydrate.” She grabs her three beers and three shots and heads back to Britt and Farrah. I watch her, then grab the four long necks and go sit with the guys.
I sit at my table, a feeling of being watched rushes over me. I take glances at her, and I see she’s been doing the same. So, she’s keeping an eye on me, too. I shouldn’t have toyed with her. I know her emotions are everywhere, but I needed to see how she’d react to the idea of us.
How I’d react to speaking it out loud.
I’m a coward, though, and chickened out before I could put a thought together and voice the words I really wanted to say.
I see her do a shot and slam it down. The girls are getting a little loud. Another round comes over and she eyes me and takes another shot.
I chuckle to myself. This is on a fast track to not ending well.
I take out my cell and shoot a text.
Me: Slow it down, drunky
I see her glance at her phone, then do a double take when she seesmy name. She reads it, then glances at me and back to her phone, a slight smirk on her lips.
Chess: And if I don’t?
Me: You won’t get to come over tonight.
