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“What are you drinking?” he questions, trying to peek into my cup.
I hold it out of his reach, taking a sip as I stare him down. “None of your business,” I say lightly.
He smirks, trying to move closer. But when I glare, he seems to take the hint.
“Leave.”
He does so without hesitation. I hear a muttered, “Bitch,” as he walks off, which prompts another eye roll because how original. I’ve never been called bitch before. Unfortunately, he’s replaced by yet another man whose company I would never be interested in keeping and have no interest in conversing with. He also leaves with a bruised ego and a frown.
I’m on my second drink when I suddenly get the urge to use the restroom. After finishing what’s in my glass, I get up, deciding to find the bathroom before continuing my night of fun. Although fun so far has been nothing but me drinking at the bar, alone.
I walk over to the bathroom area of the club, glad for a little quiet. I’m turning the corner heading into the hallway when someone suddenly appears in my sight. We collide with each other instantly, my head hitting a solid, rock hard chest.
“Watch where you’re going!”
I groan softly, rubbing my head as I look up.
My eyes connect with green ones and for a second, only one second, I’m a little in awe of how mesmerizing they are. And then the second is up and I focus more on the scowl on his face. His incredibly handsome face. But that’s doesn’t really matter.
“Are you kidding? You bumped into me! How about you watch where you’re going, asshole?” I snap.
His eyes gleam with recognition for a moment, then it disappears just as quickly, a dark expression on his face.
“How about you just apologize, darling and we can both be on our merry way?” he suggests.
His voice is incredibly sexy. Deep, masculine. But again, that really doesn’t matter right now.
I scoff, “You have a lot of nerve, you realize that? I’m not fucking apologizing.”
He stares at me for a couple of seconds, his expression dark. Exactly what crawled up his ass?
I decide to continue when it’s clear he’s not going to speak.
“You’re being unreasonable. If anything the collision was both our faults. You don’t have to be a dick about it. Just waddle on to your sad life and leave me alone,” I tell him and as soon as I finish, I know I went too far.
When I go into bitch mode, I tend to say too much. A muscle ticks in his jaw. He looks at me for an uncomfortable amount of time and I get the feeling I might have poked the bear. But then he just rolls his eyes like I’m not even worth it before carrying on and walking away.
Fucking asshole.
He leaves and I carry on walking to the bathroom. When I return to the bar, it’s almost impossible not to notice him. He’s seated there too, a couple seats down from me. And what’s even more unnerving, is that he’s already looking at me before I look at him. His green eyes are intense and captivating. I swallow softly, debating between going over to him and asking him to quit looking at me, or simply just ignoring him.
I decide on the latter. He’s really not worth my time. I ask for another glass of tequila from the bartender. It’s placed in front of me and I take a sip, doing my best to ignore the man still staring at me. When a dark-haired man approaches me a few seconds later, I welcome the interruption. He’s better-looking than the other one men that have approached me tonight and even manages a charming smile.
“Hi,” he says politely.
I can’t help but smile back. “Hey.”
“Why’s a beautiful woman like you all alone?” he asks, leaning against the bar as he looks at me.
“Maybe I like being alone.”
“No one likes being alone. And women like you especially shouldn’t be left alone.”
“Oh, really? And what should women like me be doing, exactly?” I prompt.
He pauses to think about it. “Beautiful women things?” he offers weakly.
I smirk. “You’re really laying the flattery on thick.”
