I love this place in my mind... a little alcohol, it relaxes me, especially because of what I am about to do.
My attention is focused on the man sitting too far away from me.
He's watching me as he stands.
As he walks around the bar in my direction, I wonder who he is. My insides dance to a tune I don't even recognize. My heart pounds, blood rushing through me. Our eyes lock and he smirks. I am giddy and nervous and, wait.
What?
A blonde steps in between us causing him to stop. He's looking at her, watching as she speaks to him. She is engaging him, holding his attention. But that should be me. I'm frustrated watching this, yet I can't look away from them. I want them to stop talking. She should be me, only he should be here, next to me. Why did he stop? Why is he talking to her? Why doesn't he excuse himself from this little thing they have going on?
She nods her head. Since I can't hear them, I have no idea what they are discussing. But his head tilts briefly in my direction. She laughs and places a hand on his bicep. He brings his opposite hand resting it on top of hers. He looks happy standing with her. I don't like being an outsider observing them.
Finally giving up, I return my attention to find the bartender handing me another drink. I don't remember ordering it. Perhaps I've had more to drink than I remember, resulting in me losing my mind.
"He ordered you an amaretto sour." My favorite.
"Who?"
"The gentleman over there." Following his gaze, he's pointing at the cute guy talking to that blonde.
Returning my attention back to the TV on the wall behind the bar, I take a sip from my new drink. I feel a presence behind me. The stool next to me moves and he sits down. I don't dare look. The stunt he just pulled—ordering me a drink, walking my way, then pausing to flirt with that... bimbo.
"I see you've received the drink."
I want to ignore him. I want to kiss him. I just want him... inside of me. Because, let's face it—everything about this guy just screams sex. His hair. His jaw. His smirk. His fingers.
Understanding he is no longer by her side, I put my drunken jealousy behind me and allow my flirty self to shine through.
Placing my hand on his shoulder I lean over and whisper as seductively as I could, "Yes, I did. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Now I am ready for some action.
A/N: Thanks for sticking with me. We are almost there.
Sentence teaser for next chapter: "I have a room upstairs." He cuts right to the chase.
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