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“Oh, don’t worry about me. Plenty ‘round here to keep me distracted.”
He’s caught the eye of a blonde woman on the other side of the room and is in an intense staring contest. Leaving him to it, I keep my gaze on the bar as I cross the room toward my prey. Both stools on either side of my target are empty. She sips from one of those brightly colored cocktails, the ones that come with a piece of fruit or garnish on the rim. When I get close enough to finally make out some details, I notice a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the top of her shoulders. Her blue eyes have a bit of a glaze to them, which leads me to believe she isn’t nursing her first drink.
“Is this seat taken?” I ask, motioning to one of the stools.
“Classic pickup line. A lot better than the newer ones I’ve heard over the last two hours.” Her voice is as smooth as her skin looks, and it draws me in.
It also triggers that feeling again. The feeling that she reminds me of someone. I take the seat, placing my half-finished cup of coffee on the bar top.
“You seem familiar to me,” I say. “Have we met?”
For a moment, there’s a flash of emotion in her eyes. Her lips press into a thin line, and she looks away, shaking her head as she picks up her drink. “Wow. Talk about a dagger to the heart. Well, not heart. Ego is more like it.”
Ah, shit. I do know her from somewhere.
Have I slept with her?
No.
Since I haven’t done much dating lately, and she doesn’t look like any of my previous flings, I conclude I at least haven’t chatted her up before. Studying her closely, I take in the lines of her face and the features I can now examine more closely.
“Since I don’t remember hearing your voice filled with ecstasy,” I say, “I’m going to conclude we haven’t had sex.”
She laughs, a deep full laugh that I enjoy. “No, nothing like that,” she insists. “Although, maybe picture me without the dress and in a pink towel…”
It hits me like a freight train.
Holy shit.
It’s my neighbor from this morning.
How the hell did I not notice it before? Then again, my last view of her was of those freckled tits and soft pink nipples in the morning sunlight, so I had been slightly distracted.
“I didn’t recognize you with your mask off—and your clothes on,” I say, stunned by her transformation. Damn, she cleans up well.
She snorts in amusement and shakes her head. “Yeah, clearly, which is more than a little offensive. Wearing a yogurt face mask shouldn’t exactly make me unidentifiable.”
“True, but can you blame me? We only met once for like, what, ten minutes.”
“And yet, surprisingly, I remembered your face, even beneath that stubble, and despite the fact that I also saw you naked.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t my face you thought about the moment you saw me sitting over there.”
Redness blooms across her cheeks, and she rolls her eyes. “Rude and smug. You really are the full package, aren’t you?”
“You’ve seen it, you would know.”
She smirks as she picks up her drink and polishes it off in one long gulp. She waves to the bartender for another. I shrug out of my suit jacket and drape it over the empty stool next to me. She’s gotten my attention, and I’m settling in for an interesting conversation.
“Celebrating or on the rebound?” I ask.
“Neither…umm, I mean, well, something like that. Just need a little pick-me-up.” She gives me a sweeping once-over. “What about you?”
“Blowing off steam after work with my buddy.”
She glances off to the side, and when I look, I find Connor chatting up the skinny blonde he’d set his sights on a few minutes earlier. She’s nice looking, sure, but I prefer natural tits.
She grins. “Seems he’s looking to blow off steam with someone else.”
