Against my better judgment, I’m in a sports bar, a freaking sports bar, with one of the fathers whose child goes to the school where I teach. It’s been so long since I’ve been on a date, but this guy, Derek Geyser, is a douche. He’s already halfway to drunk—okay, maybe I’m exaggerating, but he’s had four beers, and somehow, on a date, it’s my turn to buy drinks. Go figure? I glance over my shoulder, and Derek’s eyes are firmly on my butt. I do a little wave, and he all but drools when he waves back. I spin around, trying desperately to get the bartender’s attention. The sooner I get him a beer, the sooner I can leave.
“Now, beautiful, you’re trying too damned hard. Let me help. Yo, Teddy! This little lady needs some service.”
I look up into deep brown eyes, a perfect smile, and biceps I could bounce pennies off. He’s also full of himself, and he’s grinning at me like I’m his next meal. Great.
“Sure, Colt. What can I get you, little lady?”
I plaster a big smile on my face. “Shinerbock and a Diet Coke, please.”
“Coming right up.”
Teddy puts them on the bar, and I begin to hand over money when Mr. Biceps grabs my hand. “That’s okay… this one’s on me.”
“No, I can’t let you do that.”
“I insist.” He smiles down at me.
There’s no point arguing, I can tell he’s used to getting his way.
“All right then, thank you.” Mr. Biceps licks his lips while I pick up the drinks. “Better be getting back to my date.” I flash a smile and leave him there with his mouth hanging wide open.
I weave in and out of people to get back to Derek as quickly as I can.
“You know that guy at the bar?” asks Derek.
“No, I don’t. You know, Derek, I should be getting home. It’s late.”
“It’s nine o’clock!”
“I know, but I have a big day tomorrow. You know… school stuff.” I’m trying desperately to give him the hint, and even give him a squeeze on his knee followed by a graceful smile.
Derek leans in. “Ahh… honey, you can’t go yet. We haven’t even had a dance.” He grabs my hand and puts it to his lips.
I swear to God my stomach just rolled in disgust. What was I thinking going on a date with this guy? Jesus, I must be more desperate than I realized.
Pulling my hand away from him, I pick up my bag. “Sorry, I’m not much of a dancer.”
“Nonsense! I’ll lead. You’ll be in safe hands.” Derek winks, then drags me toward the dance floor.
As soon as we step on, the freaking music turns to a slow song. Derek pulls me in close, beer and cheap cologne hit me like a brick to my senses. I try to step back, but he insists and pulls me in closer, then one of his hands goes straight to my ass.
Bringing up both hands, I place them on his chest and push him away. “I’m done. Thank you, Derek, for an interesting evening. I’m going home.” I turn, ready to stalk out, but his hand closes around my upper arm.
“Now, hang on a minute… I paid for dinner.”
“Let me go. And let me be clear, I had to endure dinner. Seriously, Derek. Let. Me. Go,” I hiss at him.
“Is there a problem here?”
I look up, and it’s Mr. Biceps from the bar. He’s a good four inches taller than Derek, and the man is a walking advertisement for sex.
“I was just leaving,” I say forcefully.
“You’re Colton Anders,” exclaims Derek as the douche lets me go, and I stumble, nearly falling over. Derek grabs Colt’s hand and is pumping it up and down. “I’m a huge fan.”
With Derek now enamored with Mr. Biceps, I make a run for the door. Thankfully, I drove my car. Somehow, I had a feeling Derek wasn’t going to be a fun date.
Why didn’t I listen to my inner voice? Because it’s been a long time since I’ve felt the touch of a man.
“Honestly, Skye, you have the worst, the absolute worst taste in men,” I say to myself as I search through my bag for my car keys. Upon finding them, I unsuccessfully attempt to open my car door. “Jesus! You can’t do anything right, can you? Just open the freaking door, Skye,” I berate myself.
“Are you okay?”
I twirl around to find Mr. Biceps grinning at me.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to know your name is Skye, and you can’t open your car door.” Mr. Biceps grins at me, takes the keys from my hand, and unlocks my car with ease. “See, it’s easy.” He leans up against the open door and grins at me as he slowly looks me up and down.
“I’m perfectly capable of opening the door, but thank you.” He’s super cute, and I squirm under his gaze. “Who are you?”
“I’m Colt Anders,” he says it like I should know who he is, but I have no idea.
“Well, Mr. Anders, thank you. If you could step aside, I’ll be on my way.”
“Now, honey, you are five foot four of hotness, and you shouldn’t be going home alone,” Colt drawls.
Clenching my thighs together, a dull ache vibrates from my core. It’s been a long time since I’ve taken a man to my bed, too long. Only this guy’s so full of himself.
“I’m five foot five.”
“Perfect.”
Colt licks his lips, and before I know what I’m doing, I blurt out, “Get in, cowboy.”
The grin widens, and he jogs around to the other side of the car.
As I drive away, I see Derek at the entrance of the bar watching me leave.
Actually, he probably saw Colt get in.
Great.
