Valiant
She frowns. “But what if he takes that as an out and actually leaves me?”
I raise my brows and purse my lips. “Then honestly, was he worth it?”
“Dammit, I hate when you’re right. Still, I don’t actually want to lose him.”
“Trust me, babe,” I say, nodding my head. “He ain’t going anywhere. The way he looks at you ... Swoon.”
“Really?”
I nod. “Absolutely. Give him a little push; it’ll do him good. You’re a gorgeous girl with an incredible personality. If he lets you go, he’s an idiot.”
She smiles huge. “Heck yeah!”
As if on cue, her phone rings. She stares down at Rick’s number flashing on the screen.
“What do I do? What do I do?” she panics.
Laughing, I calmly say, “What would you usually do?”
“Um, I’d answer it.”
“Without hesitation, every time?”
She nods, her cheeks going pink.
“Then it’s simple. Don’t answer it.”
She gapes at me. “But ... but ...”
“Trust me. Don’t answer it. Let him wonder where you are. And when he asks later, you simply tell him you were busy. That’s it. No more explanation needed. He’s not your boyfriend, so you don’t actually owe him that.”
“Gosh,” she says, rejecting the call and putting the phone in her purse. “You’re an evil genius.”
I roll my eyes and hold up my glass. “To us. To girl power.”
She grins. “Girl power.”
Indeed.
~*~*~*~
“Hey.”
I narrow my eyes at the smooth, masculine voice that appears from behind me. For a moment, I think I’m hearing things. I turn from my spot at the bar where I’m waiting for round three of drinks, and see Hot Guy standing behind me, staring down at me.
For a second, my breath is sucked from my lungs, and I can’t breathe. He’s quite possibly the best looking man I’ve ever seen up close. Brown hair that falls messily over his forehead, hair that has that ‘I just got out of bed and ran my hand through it’ kind of look. His skin has a soft olive glow, and is so incredibly smooth. His eyes—oh, his eyes. Not blue. Not green. But a mixture of both.
Like somebody got two colors of paint and just mixed them together in one messy, yet incredibly gorgeous mix.
He’s tall, possibly just under six foot, and he’s lean, yet well built. His muscles are defined, sculpted, and solid. A tattoo snakes up one of his forearms and disappears under his tight, incredibly well-fitting black tee. He’s everything I should be staying away from. He has an edge behind that big grin that I can sense.
He’s a bad boy, even if he doesn’t know it.
“I’m not interested.”
His brows go up, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Perhaps he’s processing the message I just very clearly fed him.
“What makes you think I was here hitting on you?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
God, that chest.
“Weren’t you?”
He grins, and he has dimples. Wow.
“I was, yeah. But you didn’t even let me get that far before rejecting me.”
“That’s because I knew I was going to reject you even before you opened your mouth.”
He looks slightly confused, but keeps his arrogant edge. “And you knew that because of what, exactly? My incredible good looks and charm?”
“No, I’m just not interested. End of story. You could be Brad Pitt, and I still wouldn’t be interested.”
He looks slightly wounded by that. “Everyone is interested.”
I snort, unable to stop it. “Well, I’m not. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a friend to get back to.”
He tilts his head to the side and studies me. “You’re not joking.”
I raise my brows. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
He purses his lips.
I fight a smile.
“No one has ever rejected you, have they, pretty boy?”
Now he really looks wounded.
“Negative.”
“Well,” I say, taking the drinks off the bar, “I’m sure it’ll do you good.”
“Can I at least have the name of the woman who clearly has no problem insulting random strangers?” he calls as I walk towards the crowd.
“No,” I call back.
“A hint?” he calls after me.
I flip him the bird and disappear into the crowd. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. He took that better than most men, I have to give him that. I reach the booth and Shania looks up at me, her eyes wide. “What?” I mumble, sliding in.
“He spoke to you.”
“Who?”
“Hot Guy.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, and I made it clear I wasn’t interested.”
She gasps. “You did?”
“Yeah. I did.”
“That poor man. Imagine how he must feel right now.”
I laugh and flip her the bird, too. “You know I’m not interested in dating, and I’m certainly not interested in dating men like him.”
“Men like him?” she asks.
“Yeah, cocky men that are so sure they can get any woman they snap their fingers at. Men like that, they’re shallow and self-centered. He might look like Heaven, but I guarantee you dating him would be my own personal Hell.”
She pretends to play an invisible violin. “Gosh, you’re dramatic.”
I grin at her. “Are you denying my theory?”
“No,” she says, dropping her arms and taking her drink. “But damn, he was fine.”
“Yes, I’m sure plenty of other girls will enjoy him.”
“Did you at least get his name?”
I glance back at the man standing at the bar, his eyes trained on me, even through the crowd. “No,” I murmur, looking away.
Shania’s phone rings in her purse, and her eyes dart to me.
“What number is that?” I ask, sipping my drink.
“That’s his ninth call. I should answer it, right?”
I shake my head. “Nope, not until you get home. Trust me, it isn’t hurting him.”
She fidgets.
“Give me that phone.”
She shakes her head quickly, pressing it to her chest.