She’s not surprised to be in the wrong bathroom. She’s smiling.
“Oh. Rodriguez. Hi.”
“This is the men’s room.”
“I know.” She leans against the door, blocking it. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Every alarm in my brain goes off at once.
“Okay. Talk.”
“You and Juliette. That’s... new, right?”
“Not that new.”
“But new enough that Garrett had no idea. We were both surprised when she showed up with someone.” She takes a step closer. Her hand lands on my arm. “You’re very good-looking, you know that?”
What the—absolutely not.
“I should get back to the table.” I try to step back but there’s no where to go in the tight space.
“Wait.” Her fingers tighten slightly. “I just think it’s interesting. How Juliette moved on so fast. Makes you wonder if she’s really over Garrett. Or if you’re just... convenient.”
“I don’t think?—”
“I mean, showing up with a pro hockey player to make your ex jealous? Pretty transparent.” She moves closer. “But between you and me? You seem like you could do better. Juliette’s so... serious all the time. Uptight. A guy like you probably needs someone more... fun.”
Her hand slides up my arm.
I step back so fast I hip check the sink. “You need to leave.”
“Come on.” She’s still smiling like this is all a game. “I saw how you were looking around last night. At the club.”
“I wasn’t?—”
“Garrett doesn’t need to know we talked. It can just be between us.” Another step closer. Her hand reaches for me again. “When things don’t work out with Juliette—and let’s be honest, a guy like you? You’ll get bored eventually—you know where to find me.”
My stomach turns.
I’ve been hit on before. Obviously. Professional athlete, the social media presence. Women flirt. Sometimes aggressively. I’ve always known how to handle it. Be charming, deflect gracefully, make everyone feel good even when the answer is no.
This isn’t that.
This is her standing between me and the door. Her hand on my arm when I’ve already stepped back. Her engaged to someone else, to Juliette’s ex, propositioning me anyway like it’s nothing.
“I said no.” I pull my arm free. “Move.”
She doesn’t. “Think about it.”
“There’s nothing to think about. Move.”
Something in my voice must finally register because she steps aside, still smiling.
The hallway feels too narrow. My hands are shaking and I don’t understand why this is hitting me so hard.
It’s not like she actually did anything. Just talked. Just suggested. I shut it down. It’s over.
Except it’s not over because my brain won’t stop spinning.
