He cocked a grin at me, lounging against the door. “I bet I can prove you wrong about that.”
“Sure.”
“No, I’m serious. I bet I can tell you something right now that will not only interest you, but make you drive even faster to get to The Beaver.”
“Highly unlikely.”
“Even if I told you that a certain lady is going to meet a date there tonight?” he asked, grinning at me.
I knew immediately who he was talking about, but I didn’t take the bait. It didn’t matter if Ellie was at the bar. She could meet whoever she wanted there.
“Good for her.”
“Really?” he asked, surprised by my answer.
It surprised the hell out of me, too, especially after seeing her in those skimpy running shorts. I’d been hard from the moment I dropped her off and watched her run up to her house and lock herself inside.
Not that I would ever admit that to anyone.
Ellie fucking hated me, and there was no way on God’s green earth that she would ever look at me as anything other than the shithead who tormented her as a kid. Besides, it was just an attraction. I wasn’t actually interested in Ellie.
“Wait, so what’s all this back and forth between the two of you?”
“Not sure what you’re talking about.”
He chuckled, staring at me, waiting for me to admit it. “Oh, come on! Everyone can see it. You flirt with her!”
“When?” I asked, looking over at him as I pulled into The Beaver’s parking lot.
“That first night in the bar. Everyone said you two were flirting. You even walked out together.”
“Because we were both going to our cars, and I wasn’t flirting with her. See, Jeff, some people have conversations with no intentions other than to have a conversation.”
“Hmm, that doesn’t sound right.”
“Get over it, Jeff. It was just a conversation,” I said, getting out of the car.
“Yeah? That’s what they all say!” he shouted. “And then someone ends up in a dark alley with their panties around their ankles!”
13
ELLIE
“Another glass?”JR asked in a bored tone.
I stared at my wine glass, thinking maybe it was time to shake things up a bit. After all, I was waiting, yet again, for another date who was late.
“What about those little umbrella drinks? Do you have any of those?”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you sure you can handle an umbrella drink?”
“I’m pretty sure. After all, what’s really in one?”
“Rum.”
“And?”
He sighed, tossing the rag over his shoulder as he started yanking bottles to the counter. I lifted up on my elbows, watching in utter fascination as he mixed a drink for me.
