“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

I look up from my ringing phone at the bartender and my friend, Brett. He has one eyebrow raised as he points to my phone. “That’s the second time it’s rung. It could be important.”

I watch as Brett places one hand on his hip before flexing in a model pose. Despite being bisexual, he’s still totally camp. I always get a rise out of that.

“It’s my mum. She fusses over me.”

Brett offers me a knowing look. One which I am all too familiar with. “Can you blame her after what you’ve both been through?”

Guilt tears at my insides. I was kind of hoping he wouldn’t bring it up, but I guess I deserve it. Knowing I have no other choice now, I pick my phone up. Brett rewards me with a smile before leaving me to it.

“Hey, Mum,” I whisper softly.

“Thank God! Ray, I’ve been worried about you. Where are you?”

“Mum, how many times do I have to remind you not to call me that anymore?”

I hear her sigh. “I’m sorry. It’s just quite a lot to get used to.”

“I know, but you have to start. What if you call me that name in public? People will start asking questions.” Bending my head down, I whisper as much as I can so as not to gain attention.

“You’re right. I’ll try.”

“Thanks.”

“So, where are you? Don’t you want to go out somewhere special? It is, after all, your eighteenth.”

“It’s okay. I don’t feel like doing anything special. I’m just with Brett for a couple of drinks. I’ll be back in about an hour. I’ll bring Chinese,” I say with a smile in my voice.

I hear her laughter. “Well, I can’t say no to that.” And then, in a more serious tone, she says, “Just be careful, okay?”

Knowing full well what she’s referring to, I close my eyes. “I’m always careful. I’ll be back before you know it. I promise.”

There’s a slight pause before she answers, making me wonder if I should ask her if she’s still there. “Okay. I’ll be waiting. Happy Birthday, baby—who’s not a baby anymore.”

I chuckle slightly. “Thanks, Mum. I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye, sweetie.”

After I say goodbye, I hang up. Then I spend God only knows how long staring at my phone like something important will suddenly pop out at me. It’s been months since Liam, but I still can’t shake the feeling that he will never give up. Scrap that. I know he will never give up.

“Is it me, or did you just come from a funeral rather than a birthday celebration?” I look up to Brett’s smiling blue eyes. My lips curve up. “That’s better.” He then saunters over to me, pouring another brandy and coke. “Listen, because you’re depressing me to fuck right now, I’m proposing a dare. Well, more of a bet, but it’s a dare too.” I start shaking my head, but then he cuts me off. “Now, now, prissy. Don’t spoil my fun. You’ll love it. Honestly.” He then grabs another glass and starts pouring a whiskey neat. “These two drinks are on the house.”

Pointing at the whiskey, I frown. “But I don’t drink that stuff. You know I don’t.”

He smiles at me wickedly, showing me the cute little dimples in his cheeks. “This one isn’t for you, hon. It’s for him … over there.” Brett points over to the corner of the bar, so I follow his finger, and my eyes land on the booth at the end where a man is sitting alone. I’d say he’s in his mid-twenties. He has cropped dark hair, which is slightly wavy at the top. It looks soft—so soft that I have this urge to run my fingers through the strands just to find out how soft they really are. It’s too dark to tell the colour of his eyes, but I imagine they’re as intense and brooding as his face. Running a hand over his stubble, which can’t be more than an a day or two old, he stares intently at the computer screen in front of him before picking up his book. I squint to read the title. To my surprise, it’s one of my favourites—Watchers by Dean Koontz. I look on as he reads something, and his eyes widen slightly before he licks his completely perfect lips. I would kill to have his lips. They’re full, pouty, and appear to be very kissable. He drops the book back down onto the table for a moment, leans forward, and starts typing something on the screen. It’s strange. As I look at him, he seems defined—preppy even—but there’s also a hidden depth to him. His eyes hold great intelligence, but his dress tells a different story. He’s very casual, wearing only a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, which shows off just how toned he is underneath. I can see far enough under the table to know that he’s also wearing Nike trainers. It makes him look even sexier somehow.

For a moment, I can’t take my eyes off of him, but then I realise I haven’t said anything for a full thirty seconds or more. Reluctantly, I turn back to a smirking Brett. I shrug my shoulders. “So, go give it to him then. Say hi.”

Brett chuckles before pushing the drinks my way. “That guy over there is as straight as a two bob note, so I’m not going to give it to him. You are.” Brett then leans forward, mischief dancing in his eyes. “I bet you ten pounds you can’t make him kiss you within fifteen minutes of conversation.”

I start laughing, thinking he’s joking. But then I look at him and stop dead. “You’re being totally serious, aren’t you? What are we? Thirteen?” I shake my head. “N’uh. Not doing it.”

“Okay, twenty. I’ll give you twenty.” I hesitate at that, and then he pulls a begging face, pouting with his puppy dog eyes. “Oh, come on, Sasha. Live a little. I’m so fucking bored. I feel like pulling my brain out. It’s Sunday night—one of my quietest nights. I need some sort of entertainment.”

My eyes widen. “Okay!” I shout, taking one foot off the stool. I then smile and pick up the drinks. “I’ll do it. At least then, my mum and I can get a free Chinese.”

Brett points his finger at me. “That’s if you can do it. Something tells me you ain’t ever gonna pull this one off.”

This is a stupid, immature bet, but there are twenty pounds at stake. I’m not one to pass that up. Besides, Brett seems to think I don’t have it in me, and that just makes me want to prove him wrong. Unfortunately, I am rather stubborn like that—a trait my mum says I get from her.

Taking in a deep breath, I train my eyes on this sexy stranger. When I place one foot in front of the other, I hear Brett laughing softly. If I wasn’t holding two drinks right now, he would totally be getting at least a one-fingered salute.

I step forward again and watch as this stranger reads without a care. He hasn’t noticed me yet, but the closer I get, the more obvious it becomes that someone’s approaching him. When I step closer, I notice a couple of things I didn’t before because the table had been blocking my view. He has a black leather jacket and helmet.

Hmm … a biker who wears Nike trainers. Now this should be interesting!

When I step closer, he shifts a little in his seat, and I stop dead in my tracks. Am I mad for doing this? Yes, totally fucking bonkers. But Ray Jackson has never been one to shy away from a bet once the deal’s been accepted. So, with renewed energy, I step forward again, and that’s when the inevitable happens. He looks up. My breath catches as his brows furrow in wonderment. He must be trying to figure out what the hell I’m up to.

Knowing I can’t go back now, I bite the bullet, and with renewed confidence, I sit down next to him, causing him to shove up further. “I need you to help me with something,” I begin.

He smiles, taking my breath away. “And what exactly is it that I can help you with, lassie?”

Oh. My. God.

He has the sexiest Scottish accent I have ever heard. It’s rough, but not too rough. Slow and sensuous, but manly. Definitely manly. He could give Sean Connery a run for his money.

Trying to ignore the excitable flurries in my stomach, I lean forward to whisper, “Don’t look, but you know the guy standing behind the bar?”

He quirks his mouth. “You mean the barman?”

I almost roll my eyes at my own stupidity. “Yes, the barman.” He goes to look, so I whisper-hiss, “Don’t look, or else he’ll know I’m talking about him.”

He lightly chuckles. Jesus, even that’s sexy. “Okay, what about him?”

My shoulders sag as I breathe out. I must be mad. “It’s my birthday—”

“Happy birthday,” he interrupts.

“Thanks,” I say quickly. “Brett—”

“The barman?”

I sigh. “Yes. Brett the barman.” My God, this is like pulling teeth. I see when he smirks at my Brett the Barman comment. My slight irritation soon melts away with that smirk. My eyes lock on his, and for a moment, I’ve lost my words. He has the most beautiful deep-set brown eyes I have ever had the pleasure of looking into. They’re like these two light brown diamond orbs with speckles of green. Mesmerising.

“You were saying,” he says, snapping me out of it. I can tell it’s obvious to him that he’s having a significant effect on me.

I really need to get a grip!

So, I do just that, shaking my head as I clear my throat. “Yes, I was saying. Brett wanted to do a birthday bet, and the bet is that I can’t make you kiss me within fifteen minutes of conversation. If I win and you do, he’ll give me twenty quid—thus allowing me free Chinese food for my birthday.”

He looks at me for a moment, but doesn’t say anything. Instantly, a pang of regret forms in my stomach. I shouldn’t have done this. Approaching strangers is the last thing I should be doing, and asking him to kiss me within a few minutes of talking is just plain nuts. I shouldn’t be so careless—especially after Liam—but for some reason, this stranger makes me feel instantly at ease. I know it sounds nuts, but it’s the way I feel. I mean, what are the chances of me meeting two Liams in my lifetime?

Even so, I’m about to tell him to forget the whole thing when he looks down at his watch. “You only have twelve minutes, so you better make it good.”

Not understanding what he means, I frown. “Make what good?”

Leaning his elbow on the table, he clasps his fingers together. “Your wee speech that will make me want to kiss you in,” he pauses to look at his watch again, “eleven minutes.”

Instant irritation rushes to my cheeks. He may be sexy, but he’s too damn arrogant about it. “You know what? Forget it. I may be a lot of things, but undignified isn’t one of them.” I push his drink towards him. “Here’s a free drink, courtesy of Brett the Barman.”

I’m about to move away when he suddenly clasps his hands to my cheeks and pulls me towards him. Without a thought, he presses his full lips to mine, sweeping his tongue out against my lips to coax my mouth open. I can taste the whiskey on his breath, but instead of feeling disgusted by it, it only heightens my desire for him. I have been kissed before, but it’s been forced and left me feeling degraded and empty inside. This man is kissing me like I’m the most beautiful woman in the world, and I don’t even have a clue as to what his name is. The kiss is needy, but it’s also sensuous, slow, and passionate. The feel of his tongue dancing with mine makes my head spin and my legs shake.

He slows a moment, so I think he’s about to stop, but when I try to break away, he pulls me closer, wrapping an arm around my waist and squeezing me to him. I let out a breathy moan, and he reacts by taking my mouth in the most passionate, spell-binding kiss I’ve ever experienced. For a few moments, I’m completely lost—completely swept up by this man whom I have only just met five or six minutes ago. The feel of his chest against mine sends my pulse racing. His hands are big and strong, and his mouth reminds me of the taste of my favourite chocolate. Warm, inviting, moist, and soft. I could kiss him for hours.

But just as I’m really getting into it, he suddenly breaks away and leans his forehead against mine. His breathing is so heavy that I can see my blonde tendrils moving in time with each breath he takes, and I feel as they lightly brush across my face in the process. I watch as he swallows hard before saying, “You didn’t need to convince me, fuck all. I wanted to kiss you from the moment you walked up to me and opened that cute, feisty mouth of yours.” I bite my lip and try to suppress my smile. “You win, sweetheart.”

I think my heart just skipped a beat. I’m so screwed.

Trying to compose myself, I clear my throat. “Thank you.”

“Oh, believe me, the pleasure was all mine.”

And then it hits me. I hope he doesn’t think I do this all the time. “Erm,” I say, scratching my head, “just so you know, I don’t make a habit of doing this.”

He smirks. “I can see that.”

Suddenly, I feel offended. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Still smirking, he starts shaking his head. “Oh, no, lassie. Don’t start that insecure bullshit with me. There really is no need for it. I didn’t mean it as you evidently think I did. I just meant that I can already tell that you don’t normally approach men in pubs. You may be new at this, but that kiss?” he breathily whispers, shaking his head. “Let’s just say your lips seem like they were made for kissing.” I smirk at that and he notices. “What?”

“To me, it seems like you’ve done this hundreds of times.”

With a cheeky grin, he leans forward. “I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t mean it in a nasty way.”

“Compliment it is then,” he says, leaning back. “I’ve certainly never done this before.” He gives me a look, and when he spots my smirk, he asks, “Can I know your name? Since we’ve kissed, I feel I deserve at least that much.”

I could seriously listen to his voice for hours!

“It’s Sasha.”

Holding out his hand, he smiles. “Nice to meet you, Sasha. The name’s Easton.”

“That’s an unusual name.”

He half-laughs like he’s heard that a thousand times. “That’s my family all over.”

“Got a lot of them? Family, I mean.”

“I’m one of six. I have four brothers and one sister. She lives in America with her husband, so I don’t get to see her that often. All my brothers are up in Scotland.”

“Whereabouts?”

Glancing sideways at me, he smirks. “You ask a lot of questions.”

I shrug, looking away for a moment. “I’m just a curious person I guess.”

“That’s good. Curiosity is always a good thing.”

I smile. “I thought it killed the cat.”

He chuckles at that. “It does in some cases. But mostly, it’s good to be curious. How else can one learn new things?”

“I guess.”

“Edinburgh,” he blurts.

“What?”

He laughs again, sending my pulse rocketing. This man is something else.

“Where I’m from and where most of my family lives now.”

“So, what brings you here?”

“A new job. But that’s enough about me. All I know about you is your name.” With a firm grip, he picks up his drink and takes a gulp. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as the drink slides down. I suddenly have this overwhelming urge to stick out my tongue and lick that Adam’s apple.

Knowing I have to say something, I simply shrug. “There’s not much to tell really.” And I really don’t want to tell what there is. I was abducted at the age of fifteen and haven’t been back from that ordeal for very long. It’s a big part of my life that I don’t wish to get into—especially with a man I met just ten minutes ago.

Placing his drink back down, he eyes me peculiarly. “Well, I know it’s your birthday today, and I assume by what you’re drinking that you’re of legal age. I’m guessing around twenty, twenty-two at a push.”

I guess with what I’ve been through, I do look older. It’s hardly surprising really. But then again, I don’t know this guy, and I’ll probably never see him again. “You’re in the ballpark,” I answer, deciding to leave it at that.

Shaking his head, he smirks. “You’re not giving anything away, are you?”

I shake my head, confirming. “You’ll just have to go home tonight guessing.”

Leaning forward, his eyes wander down from my eyes towards my lips before meeting my eyes again. I think my knickers have caught fire.

“I have no doubt you’ll be in my dreams tonight, lass.” My breath hitches, and when I don’t respond, he says, “I want to kiss you again.”

Mushy brain. All my body can scream through it is, “Yes!” I must have said it out loud because the moment I think the word, Easton leans forward. I feel the moment that his lips press against mine.

Warm.

Wet.

Inviting.

Intoxicating.

I’m completely lost within these lips of his. When he finally pulls away, we’re both breathless. Easton closes his eyes as he leans his forehead against mine. “I want to taste more of you, but there’s no way I’m keeping you away from your mum. If it wasn’t for that, I would take you back to my place where I’d make sure the only word capable of leaving your lips is my name.”

Wow.

“Very sure of yourself, aren’t you?” He may be the sexiest man alive, but he’s also the cockiest.

“Tell me you wouldn’t have wanted that. Tell me you don’t want it now.”

“Wanting something and acting upon it are two different things. I may want to go with you, but I won’t.”

“Because you’re having Chinese with your mum?”

I shake my head. “It’s not just that. I don’t even know you.”

“You seem to know a damn sight more about me than I do about you, lass.”

I nod my head on a laugh. “I suppose that’s true.” I know I need to leave, but this is the first time in a long time that I have felt really good. I don’t want to lose this feeling. “I’d better go,” I say despite my own wishes to the contrary.

“Back to your mum for Chinese?”

I capture his eyes and smile. “Yes. Back to my mum’s for Chinese.”

“Can I at least get your number before you go?” I bite my lip, and he notices. “Forget it. You’re obviously uncomfortable with that.” He doesn’t say it in a nasty way, though. He simply sounds matter-of-fact about it.

Before my brain engages, I run off my mobile number. As I’m saying it, Easton gets out his phone and starts typing it in. I wait until he’s finished, and when he is, I hear my phone ping.

“I’ve sent you a wee message.” He winks after that, making my heart flutter.

“Okay. I’ll be sure to read it once I leave for my Chinese.”

He nods. “Make sure you do.”

Finally gaining the courage to get up, I say, “Enjoy your book. The dog dies in the end.” With that said, I leave Easton and walk back to the bar where Brett’s eagerly waiting with a holy fuck look on his face.

When I sit down, he slaps a twenty on the table. “I didn’t think you had it in you.” I watch him shake his head before turning to look back at Easton. He’s smirking, and then he too starts shaking his head. He looks down, types something, and I again hear my phone ping. I don’t get it out of my pocket, though. I’m dying to know what it says, but I don’t want to look too keen.

Eventually, I tear myself away from Easton’s stare and look back at Brett. “Thanks for the money,” I say, picking it up and putting it in my pocket. “I’m sure my mum will be thankful too once I bring her some food.”

“Tell her I said hi.”

“Will do,” I answer, swigging the rest of my drink down. “See you around, Brett the Barman.” I slide off my chair and start walking.

“Brett the what?” he asks.

Chuckling, I wave my hand behind me. I don’t want to look around because if I do, the temptation to look at that man who I can only describe as divinity incarnate would be all too consuming. “See you tomorrow, babes.”

“I’ll text you in the morning, hon.”