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All the breath that fills my lungs congeals. I can’t hear anything past the sound of my name from his lips. I contemplate running away. But worse than my age, that might actually make me a child. Instead, I suck in a breath, trying to ignore the way my nipples harden a tad as the silk slips over them. Toes curling in my sandals, I spin and pause.
Silvered eyes widen on me, the pounding of my heart inching me back to the bar, where I stand next to my friend with my hands spasming at my sides because I can feel my pulse throb in my palms, the way his did that night.
“Hey,” I croak, avoiding his name.
I’m certain I’ll groan it with the way his gaze rakes over me, zeroing in on my chest. My oversensitive nipples burn under his intense stare. There’s no doubt he can see the effect he has on me when his hands blanch around the edge of the bar top.
“I didn’t know you were coming.”
Incapable of forming any coherent words, I nod.
“Holy hotness, okay…” Alice blows out a breath, drumming her fingers on the bar. “Any free rooms tonight?”
Shit, why can’t she help herself? Always making smart comments and—
God, my thoughts jam when Parker laughs. Deep. Low. So gravelly that the rumble vibrates through me, adding gasoline to the sparks already popping and buzzing in my belly. My core tightens as I inhale, and his scent fills my lungs. Warm and woody, with a light floral hint that reminds me of Easton’s baby smell.
“What can I get you?” Parker asks, eyes on mine, even though he’s mostly turned toward my friend.
“Shots. I think we need shots…pronto, Hot Boss.”
Although she doesn’t tell him what liquor she wants, Parker turns to the shelf and goes about pouring our shots, while I take a moment to remind Alice to behave.
“Please!”
“Girl, the tension though…”
“Stop!”
“The forearms on it,” she practically drools, eyes rolling to the back of her head.
She’s so pretty with her Esmeralda vibe. The whole bohemian gypsy thing makes her impossible to miss, and the fact that she’s openly ogling and appreciating Parker sets me on edge. I don’t like it or how when he turns and puts our shots down on the bar, he smiles at her.
“Cheers!” Holding up her shot glass, she glances down at my chest with a smirk. “Slippery Nipple, huh?”
Darting my stare to his, I swallow through the surprise swelling in my throat.
Thump, thump…thump, my heart drums. Faster and faster as he pushes the shot toward me and watches intently while I pick it up and then drink it back. The creamy and buttery liqueurs mix in my mouth, warming as they slip down my throat with the residue of fruity sweetness from the grenadine bursting on my taste buds.
“Good?” he asks, the gravel in his voice driving me insane. A devilish grin spreads across his face with a hitch to his brow.
All I can do is nod.
“Best Slippery Nipple I’ve ever had,” Alice states, stacking her shot glass on mine, rim to rim. “Now for the proper drinks.” She scouts the menu. “Margaritas all round, lovebug?”
“Sure,” I reply, using my thumb to wipe the corners of my mouth, even though there’s nothing there.
It doesn’t take Parker long to make our long drink order. And while I watch him shake the mixer, I’m transfixed by the way he moves. Not to the melody of the music or the beat—he just moves, and I’m here compelled by every flex of his muscle.
By the time we’re walking away, I’m struggling to keep the tray in my hands steady. His “have fun” replays in my ears.
Have fun?
What does that mean after the whole shot thing? This is the most we’ve spoken in weeks, and I have no idea how to interpret what just happened. Was he flirting with me?
We’ve almost made it to the rest of the group when an arm wraps around my waist, and it’s a miracle the drinks don’t tip.
“Sunshine!” Harrison greets me with his usual carefree laugh. “Looking hot.”
